


Instead of that Birthday

by Sonnet23



Category: Broadchurch
Genre: Action, Attempt at Humor, Crime Fighting, Drama, Gen, a bit of Angst and Hurt/Comfort (or maybe more than "a bit")
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-19
Updated: 2017-09-16
Packaged: 2018-11-16 00:40:04
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 10
Words: 35,086
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242671
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonnet23/pseuds/Sonnet23
Summary: Five months have passed since the last serious case Hardy and Ellie had. Hardy’s not okay with that for different reasons. The most important one is that work could give him an excuse to avoid the celebration of his birthday, which is frighteningly close. He would do anything instead. Well, maybe he’ll get his excuse. And maybe he’ll change his mind about it.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Jiascorp](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jiascorp/gifts).
  * A translation of [Вместо дня рождения](https://archiveofourown.org/works/11242599) by [Sonnet23](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sonnet23/pseuds/Sonnet23). 



> To Jiascorp  
> Happy birthday, dear friend!  
> You and Hardy do have a lot in common, apart from the lack of sleep and the willingness to kill yourself over the work you do. :-) You both are good and strong people who need to be protected anyway, despite your obvious strength. And it’s wonderful. :-)
> 
> ***  
> To other readers (if there happen to be any, welcome!).  
> I’m writing this in two languages especially for those who… well… don’t like reading fanfiction in their native language. XD English is not my first language, so please forgive my numerous mistakes.

If anyone could see him right now, there would be enough rumours and gossips to discuss for a week. DI Hardy, aka DI Shitface, crime fighter  and defender of the downtrodden, was counting something with his long fingers. Eyes rolled and looking even more miserable than ever. He was mumbling something to himself.

– August – four… September – five… October… Shit!

Yeah, the worst part was that October had already begun. If they were working on a case now he could have put the blame on his stupid job, being awfully busy bla-bla, and Miller and the others would never have dared to bring up that bloody birthday.

But there hasn’t been a new serious case – even a small one – for about half a year. On the days like this Hardy remembered why he hated this town so much.

Nothing ever happened here.

And actually he should be happy about it.

But that what the awful irony was:

He loved his job. The loved the thrill of it, loved the feeling that he is here for doing something really important (not just for wasting his time with fucking papers). Boredom was more exhausting for him than the pressure of investigation.

And yet he knew he would regret these thoughts as soon as they get the next call. ‘Cos a call meant a crime. And a crime meant someone’s grief. And in a small town like Broadchurch it’s  frighteningly possible that the grief would touch someone he knew and loved.

Ashamed of his thoughts Hardy inhaled sharply and shoved his hands into pockets, as if he himself was a criminal hiding evidence.

Actually, it wasn’t that, – his mind went on composing a speech in his defense.

The boredom eating him up, was in fact caused by worry. For though no crimes happened in Broadchurch, it never meant they didn’t happen anywhere. Everyday experienced cops were needed somewhere. Somewhere police lacked resources (as they did when investigating Trish’s case), somewhere they just needed fresh eyes (like he did long time ago, in Sandbrook).

And here he is, counting with his fingers the months he’s spent just wearing out the seat of his pants!

Annoyed by all this Hardy stood up and went to the mirror to check if his bum was actually seen through the trousers.

Shit!

Another stupid thing to do.

He had already thought of applying as a part-time consultant  somewhere in Bristol or Yeovil.

Daisy would definitely kill him.

Right. When he recalled, what he really was bearing this boring Broadchurch life for – he had to sigh and admit that it was worth it.

However right here and now the 16th of October frightened him more than a new crime investigation or his 18-year-old daughter’s anger. He would agree to do anything instead of celebrating that birthday.

There was a knock at the door, and before he could answer the head of PC… PC… Something-sky appeared. Hardy was happy he wasn’t in front of the mirror anymore. He’s worked here for ages and these people still haven’t learnt to knock properly.

– DI Hardy, sir…

– What’s happened? Something serious, I suppose, if you allow yourself to break into my office like this.

– I did knock…

– But I didn’t answer! I could have been doing something… – he faltered, thinking of what he was doing a minute ago. – Important.

– What? Dressing up as Lady Gaga? – she chuckled. Once again Hardy thought that since he and Miller started working together, other officers have lost all remaining fear of him. He allows her too much. – I’m sorry, sir. It was just a joke. Chief Super asks you to come to her office. There’s been a call.

Hallelujah!

– Coming, – he barked, grabbed his phone and jacket and rushed past Something-sky.

***

– DI Hardy, how are you?

– Fine! – said Hardy too cheerfully for the circumstances. – What have we got?

CS Clark handed him a thin file with the details of the call. Soon it will grow into a real case, thought Hardy with an alarming satisfaction.

– Here. Fiona Taylor, 52, reported her husband missing. Thomas Taylor, 54 year-old lawyer hasn’t been at home for two days. She believes he might have been abducted.

– Great.

 Hardy lifted his eyes from the file where he couldn’t make out a thing without his glasses anyway, and met Clark’s reproachful looks.

– I mean, I’m on it. Where the hell is Miller?

– DI Miller is not coming with you.

– What? Why? – Hardy stopped halfway to the door.

– She’s out on another call.

– A call?!

There it was, again. There was already a pattern forming: every time Miller was given a case before him. First he thought he was being paranoid, but then, as always, his worst fears were confirmed.

Since that very time when he returned to Broadchurch they held him in the CID as a resource for emergencies. And when Miller was promoted it became even worse. He could spend six months with paperwork and Miller and some useless DS’s got all the rare cases. Clark may not say it directly to him, but he once overheard someone chatting in the CID café about her preferring not to take risks where she could and not to let the cop with a pacemaker work in the field. Hardy could not blame her: actually he should be grateful he got this job in the first place. But it still hurt. Especially given the fact that when something really terrible happened – like that sexual assault case – everyone tend to easily forget about his bloody pacemaker. All difficult cases still ended up on his desk. But there were almost no difficult cases here…

– Ma’am, why did you give Miller the case that’d arrived first? And why didn’t you let me go with ‘er?

– She’s capable to deal with it on her own. And it’s not even a case, it’s nothing.

– Then, you could have sent a DS there. We are working together, you know.

– You’re also absolutely capable to deal with _your_ case on your own, don’t worry, Alec, – she smirked. – Your “case” is also nothing, not worth two DI’s. Take Bob, if you want, he’ll look after you.

Hardy gritted his teeth. He didn’t know what irritated him more: that he’d acted like a child, hiding behind Miller’s skirt (not that she ever wore skirts), or  the boss’s words about the case being nothing.

– Why do you say it’s nothing?

– ‘Cos Mrs. Taylor’s husband’s not missing, he’s probably away on some business or even having an affair. And his wife is just being paranoid. He phoned her yesterday.

– What?

– Yeah, he did. And she told us about it. He called her, said that he suddenly had to go to London, to see some old friend who is in trouble with the law. And Taylor agreed to help him. Without anyone knowing, of course. But she doesn’t believe in this because – and I quote – “It doesn’t sound like him.”

– She hadn’t been asked for ransom, had she?

– No.

– But you want me to go there anyway.

– Yeah, why not. Otherwise you might run away from us in a month or so. To some bloody Bristol, for instant. And I surely wouldn’t  want that. 

Hardy stared at her. He hasn’t told anyone about his secret thoughts. His boss never ceased to amaze him. Like many people in Broadchurch, actually.

 

***

A tall and beautiful woman with fear in her eyes opened the door.

– Good afternoon, Mrs. Taylor. I’m DI Alec Hardy, Wessex Police. You reported your husband missing.

– I did. Please, come in, – she let him into a large house, simply but nicely decorated. – Actually I called the police around eight. But you must be very busy, I understand… I am still ashamed to bother you now, while I’m not sure yet if Tom is really... – she couldn’t finish and sighed.

Hardy felt a pang of guilt.  This woman is worried about her husband, and the police didn’t even bother to send someone to her.

– I came as soon as I was given your case… I’m so sorry. Must be paperwork…

– No, no, that’s okay, I get it. Please sit down. Would you like some tea? Or maybe coffee?

– No, thank you. Mrs. Taylor, you told the police you believed Tom had been abducted? What makes you think so?

– I don’t know. I feel it. Tom’s never done anything like that, you see? Two days ago he went to work and never returned. I called him, but his phone was off.

– But Mr. Taylor did phone you? Later?

– Yes. At first I wasn’t too worried. They sometimes stay late, at the office, you know. I just went to bed, thinking, he’ll wake me up when he returns. But he never did. In the morning I phoned to his office, and they told me that yesterday he’d finished the work early and hadn’t turned up today. I was about to call the police, but  then – he called himself, – she took a deep breath and raised her eyes to the ceiling.

Hardy understood that she was trying not to cry. He was familiar with this way.

– What did he say?

– He said that he’d got a call from an old friend whom he hadn’t seen for ages… “You don’t know him,” – that’s what he said… This guy got into trouble, something to do with the law, if I got it right. And Tom, he owed him a favour, he said. So he just had to go and help him.

– Did he mention the friend’s name?

– No. He behaved weirdly. He repeated several times that I shouldn’t worry, that everything’s all right… But the situation itself…

– And if we believe what he’s said, he is in London now?

– Yes.

– Did he study there?

– Yes, in the London School of Economics and…

– OK. And you don’t know any of his friends from the School, do you?

– No. He moved here long ago. We met when he was already quite local. As far as I know he hadn’t had many friends back there. He actually doesn’t like lawyers very much, – she laughed bitterly, and even a smile like that made her face look more beautiful.

– I agree with him on that, – muttered Hardy trying to help her cheer herself up, and was too late to understand that it was a stupid thing to say. – I mean… I didn’t mean that…

– Oh, no, you’re absolutely right. I told you, Tom wasn’t fond of his colleagues himself.

– We’ll have to take your phone, – Hardy decided to return to the solid ground and held her an evidence bag. – And also, will you let us search your husband’s room? Get an access to his computer?

– I… I don’t know. Is it necessary?

– It might help.

– Then yes, yes, of course.

– Did you get any other letters, messages or phone calls?

– No, nothing… I wish I did… I wish I were just told what I must do… To get him back.

She sighed again holding back tears.

– Forgive me, detective.

– If you’d like to talk later, I can…

– No… Thank you for being here. I’m just… I’m so worried. I’m not used to worry for Tom anymore.

The last sentence grabbed Hardy’s attention.

– Anymore? So, there used to be time in your life when you had to worry for him a lot?

– There used to, yes. Tom… He’s got a condition. A heart condition. Well, actually he _had_. Four years ago he got a pacemaker. It saved his life. And mine… God, you can’t imagine the hell we’ve been through.

_I can_ … – thought Hardy sarcastically. Suddenly something just clicked inside him, and he congratulated himself: “Here we are”, – now he won’t be able to treat this case as “nothing” anymore.

– Mr. Taylor has a heart condition? – he sounded so hoarse that he had to clear his throat in the middle of the sentence. But Mrs. Taylor didn’t’t notice. She was remembering.

– Yes. Arrhythmia. It was a nightmare. For a very long time he denied he was sick. Went running like a stubborn idiot, worked long hours. And then it all started. Very soon he couldn’t not only run but walk up the stairs. Pain.  Collapses. The doctors prescribed medicine, but recommended to think about getting a pacemaker. Tom was afraid of the surgery, kept putting it off… O, dear… You know, I’ve already waited for him like this when he didn’t return home from work. And I kind of felt that something had happened. I rushed out of the house… In my dressing gown. Ran up to the crossroad – and there he was. Some car appeared out of nowhere and startled him… He collapsed… He just lay there unconscious by the roadside… can you imagine that?

Hardy tried not to imagine. His body stiffening and refusing to move. Fingers going numb and vision blurring. An iron fist crushing his heart. The horror that overwhelms him as he can no longer breathe…

He gasped. The fear that memory could bring the sensation back almost made the ICD snap into action.

He remembered… Oh, God… How many times… Fear. Utter panic… His heart’s beating faster and faster with every second, every second’s hurting more than the previous one… Until it finally crashes against the wall… Granite, gigantic grindstone – and he’s inside. He wished he could just pass out. The sooner the better.

He took a deep breath again.

– I called the ambulance, – she went on. – Tried to talk to him, cried… He came to his senses before the doctors appeared. He said later that my howling can wake the dead. I helped him rise from the ground, brought him home… It was then that we finally decided about the operation. The doctors were very good, and after that we kind of got a new life. But still… It’s not magic, is it? They warn you that there are restrictions, there might be malfunctions, he might… – she suddenly looked at Hardy again, the anxiety in her eyes growing.

It was hard to listen to her. To look her in the eye was even harder.

It was mean, but he envied that Tom Taylor.

Every time, when he fell near the brink of the abyss alone, shivering from fear and anguish, – how desperately he longed for someone to come and help him not to fall. Help him to rise.

He looked at Mrs. Taylor’s strong and soft hands. These were the hands of a mother, the hands of a nurse.

If only such hands held him when he was lying alone on the cold ground and the water, brought by the tide into a puddle, slowly found its way under his shirt… If such arms were put around his shoulders… If someone’s  caring voice spoke to him: “Alec! Jesus, you’re alive. Thanks God. I’ve got you… Please, wake up, I need you so much.”

But every time he woke up, he was alone. And if there was someone – it was not the one who needed him.

And he stood up himself. From the bottom of the river. From the hospital bed. From the cold embankment flooded with water.

From the growing desperation – to the first step that saved his life, he also rose up himself.

Every time he wouldn’t mind a helping hand. But if he asked for one it would have turned into a crutch.

So yes, he did envy Tom Taylor.

However as soon as he understood it he immediately cursed his own weakness.

At least he had strength to stand up, and here he is. More that can be said for Tom.

A man with arrhythmia has been absent for two days… Pacemaker or not – Hardy knew the situation was still dangerous enough.

– DI Hardy, are you listening? Is everything all right? – Mrs. Taylor’s eyes, that had learnt to care for people were very close to his face now, and Hardy realized that his blank stare had frightened her.

– Aye. I’m sorry. Fiona, does your husband carry his pills with him?

– No… Not lately, no. I’ve told him lots of times to go to the chemists – but he kept saying he felt fine.

Hardy put his hand into the pocket and touched his blister of pills. It had been empty for two months already.

– I see, – he nodded.

– Do you think it’s his heart? Something’s happened to him and he’s lying somewhere… Oh, my! It’s been almost two days! – she covered her mouth.

– It’s too early to rush into conclusions and suggest anything. I’ll check if there have been any similar calls in the emergency. And I’ll send someone to get the computer.

– Thank you, detective.

– But, Fiona, – Hardy found himself calling Mrs. Taylor by her first name again. When did it start? – You realize that if he really is in London we haven’t got many clues…

– I know… But you might find something on his computer, right?

– We’ll try. I’ll do everything I can to find your husband.

– Thank you, – she sighed again. – Thank you so much for taking it seriously.

How could he not take it seriously?

 


	2. Chapter 2

– For fuck’s sake!

The door of the office slammed so hard that the walls seemed to shake. And his poor colleagues were most certainly shaking as well. All of them suddenly found something important to do and tried not to notice their furious boss.

The furious boss crossed the office and rushed out. If anyone dared to look at him, they could have thought that there was a bomb inside Hardy’s body, and he was hurrying to carry himself away from the people.

Everyone held their breath.

Another horrible noise – the front door this time – announced that the bomb had left the building.

When Hardy was outside he took a moment to catch his breath, and cursed again.

Fffucking fformalism!

B-bloody bureaucracy!

“It’s too early to assume anything, Alec.” “You’ve taken it too seriously, Alec.” “Alec, we have no evidence that this man is really missing.”

– Then we should find that bloody evidence! – he growled bending over Clark’s the table, and she just sat there absolutely impassive.

She agreed to send forensics to Taylors’ house, but not before tomorrow afternoon. “If Taylor doesn’t turn up before that.”

She refused to give him a team, referring to “the lack of police resources”. As if there were any other ways to use those resources in Broadchurch!

– Let me at least take Miller!

– Ellie is working on the Mrs. Connolly’s report about her husband’s poisoning.

– But we work together! Why did you give her a case, and I got…

– Because there’s nothing to work on. In both of your cases. Both of your little ladies are just being paranoid. And I hope it will be proved the sooner the better.

Obviously it was useless to tell this snow queen about his instincts or bad feelings. Or about the time they might be running of…

Hardy took out his phone and dialed Miller. She didn’t answer. Was she so busy investigating paranoia?

Very well then, it was a nice opportunity to try something…

He looked around like a schoolboy who was brewing a mischief.  Then he took his phone again but this time for a very different purpose.

If anyone could see DI Shitface now, they would struggle to sort out what had brought that pleased and a bit insidious smile onto his face, that didn’t really deserve its nickname anymore.

 

***

What’s that, a pharmacy? Not far from his house? You’d think that Someone Up There was trying to tell him to change the empty blister in his pocket for a new one… If only Hardy believed in Someone Up There, of course. And if by pure chance he happened to take his doctor’s prescription with him.

He saw the familiar orange parka from the distance, through the glass door.

– Millahhrrr! Hey. I’d like you to do something for me.

After all these years he really shouldn’t enjoy the mixture of irritation, rage and surprise on her face that much. But it never got old. Hardy hid a smile and just nodded calmly in reply.

– What the… What are you doing here?

The chemist boy she was talking to also stared at him curiously.

– I’ve come to get you. Need your help. Chief Super gave me a case but now she wants me to get rid of it quickly. And I’m sensing that it won’t be that easy, because…

– Oh, oh, hold on! What are you talking about, for God’s sake. Can’t you see I’m working?

– No, you are not. You are just pretending in order to have something to report.

– Oi! I’m not… Bloody hell, Hardy! How did you even find me?

– Asked at the station.

– Bullshit. I haven’t been to the station, I took the address in the hospital and went here straight away.

– Good for you.

– Don’t try to weasel out. Sometimes I think, you are spying on me, – he looked at him with the eyes of a mother who has found her son’s porno. He wasn’t fast enough to avoid her gaze. – Oh, no! What? Look at me, now! Seriously? Don’t tell me these are those Maidens’s bugs that we confiscated four months ago?! Bloody hell, Hardy! It’s completely out of line… It’s illegal!

– Of course they are not those, those were the evidence. I ordered some more from him for personal use.

– Shit!

She began groping her clothes and turning out her pockets.

– Take the bloody thing off me now! You bloody wanker! I said now, or I…

Hardy sighed, caught her hand and took the bug out of the little secret pocket on her sleeve.

– Do you know, who you are…

– I do.

– How did you even know I’d be wearing this? I could have put on something else. Wait… You couldn’t have…

– You don’t have that many coats, – he shrugged. – And all of them are hanging peacefully in the wardrobe. Except for this misery-of-a-jacket walking down High Street…

– Knob. If I find any of these awful things again, I’ll… I’ll stuff it into your pants!

The chemist boy chuckled. Hardy and Miller both turned their heads to him.

– Shit, Hardy, I’m working, I need to interview the witness. Why did you look for me in the first place?

– That’s what I’m trying to tell you. A woman reported her husband missing. Except for he is not. Well, technically. He called her yesterday and said he’d gone to London to help some friend of his. She doesn’t know any of his London friends and she doesn’t even believe he’s there. According to her he behaved weirdly. I took her phone to have it check ed. But Clark refused to give me a decent team before we make sure he doesn’t return like nothing’s wrong.

– Fair enough, – Miller shrugged. – Your lady’s just being paranoid.

– No, it’s your lady who’s being paranoid if she thinks that her husband who died of appendicitis had been poisoned.

– Are you snooping around my case?!

– Stop it, it’s not a case, it’s paranoia.

– Okay then, there are two paranoias.

– Mrs. Taylor doesn’t look like a drama queen.

– Why can’t you give in and say yes to a draw – at least once, eh?

– It’s a man’s life we are talking about, Miller.

– But he is alive, isn’t he?

– He _was_ alive yesterday.

– He might be just cheating on her.

– I doubt it.

– Why? You don’t usually believe that much in someone’s honesty.

– He… Taylor got a pacemaker four years ago. They’ve been through a lot together.

– Oh… I see, – she looked at him with some kind of weird embarrassment. – That’s why you…

– It has nothing to do with that.

He could see by her looks that he hadn’t convinced her. Hardy got angry; why on earth did he have to persuade a police officer to investigate a crime?

– Fine! – he barked, and then continued a bit quieter. – Aye, it has messed me up. ‘Cos I know this thing. I know what it’s like when… when… what might happen if…

– Okay, okay, – Miller said sparing him the painful attempts to find words for describing the nightmare that he had left behind only a few years ago.

When he looked at her again, he realized that she was ashamed. It made him feel guilty himself: it was so despicable – manipulation by making her pity him… But he didn’t do that on purpose, did he? And not for himself…

Miller interrupted his self-chastising.

– Let me finish here, and then I’ll help you if I can, OK?

Hardy sighed. There was nothing good in wasting time. But he didn’t have many options.

– Okay, whom do you have here?

– Francis Stain, the chemist. He used to sell medicine to Mr. Connolly. Mrs. Connolly has found a piece of paper from a relanium packing. Her husband never said he took sleeping pills.

– Have you ever sold sleeping pills to Mr. Connolly, Mr. Stain?

– You can call me Frank. No, he had never bought such stuff.

– Why this pharmacy? – Hardy asked Miller.

– He bought everything else here, – answered Stain. – For himself, but mostly for his wife. She’s kind of a health nut. You know: healthy food, right amount of sleep and so on.

– Oh, so you knew the Connollies quite well, didn’t you.

– Like I know all my customers.

– What about the tox screen? – he turned to Miller again.

– There’s nothing, – she shrugged. – I mean, obviously, by the time of death he was drugged up, but the doctors are sure there’re no traces of relanium in his body.

– Ah. Can’t you see what it looks like? It’s a case about the strange piece of paper that appeared in the Connolly house.

– I know. It’s nonsense. Although it had to get there somehow.

– Do you have these drugs in your pharmacy, Mr. Stain?

– We used to, but switched to different medications recently.

– Is Brian working with the paper?

– Yeah. No results yet, though.

– Great. And I can’t make them search the house of a missing man. Well, let’s see what they’ll tell us and then decide what to do next. Do you have any more questions to Mr. Stain?

– No, I’m done here.

– Brilliant. Let’s go.

Hardy waved his hand and went out. Miller trotted after him.

 

***

– Okay, where shall we start? Do you want me to talk to this…

– Mrs. Taylor. I don’t know. I’m not sure it will give us anything new. Actually… Wait. Clark allowed me to have the phone checked, but didn’t allow to search the house. But we can still do it in private if Mrs. Taylor agrees. At least we could get the data from the computer.

– I’m not sure it’s a good idea. Anyway, who would want to dig through it before the official permission is issued? Have you got anyone who could do it? ‘Cos I usually solve computer problems with a hammer.

– Yes, like everyone in your family; I remember Tom once solved his problem the same way… Oh, how about Paul Coats?

– What? No! I’m not asking a vicar to hack into someone’s computer.

– A former vicar. And it’s not hacking, it’s a research with permission… no, upon the owner’s request.

– Upon request of the owner’s wife. That’s not the same thing.

– Millar. You offered your help, remember?

He saw that she barely holds back, trying not to remind him that he’d almost begged her for help. One more pang of guilt, one more thought that he’s just doing his job.

– Fine! Bloody hell. Give me the postcode. And let her know that I’m coming, so that she doesn’t freak out or something.

– Okay.

– And what will you do?

– I’ll go to his office, have a wee chat with the bloody lawyers. Yeah, and I also want to find out if any people have gone missing recently.

– How are you going to do that? Google? No one will let you near police records without a formal request. And a formal request…

– I know, – he interrupted. Miller was already wasting more time than she was supposed to be saving. – There are other records.

 

***

– Abductions? About ten years ago there was something, but recently – I don’t think so. Well, give me a moment, – Maggie squinted looking at the screen and ran a search through her database.

Although she resigned half a year ago, she still knew about everything that happened in Broadchurch and around it better than anyone else. The living spirit of “Broadchurch Echo” – that’s who she was. Hardy was still amazed that he could respect a member of the press that much.

He thought that he’d understood what was so special about this town. Broadchurch kept showing him the exceptions to the rules. If you are used to the fact that all priests are vain and rigid dogmatists, that doesn’t mean you won’t find one who would question God and doubt himself, but who would still try to comfort other people. If all journalists would happily turn your life onto shit in order to get “a good story”, that doesn’t mean that for one of them truth and justice wouldn’t be the most important things. If most of the people prying into your life betray you afterwards, that doesn’t mean that there wouldn’t be someone who would truly feel for you and help you…

How did it happen that all these people disproving all his – no, not stereotypes – all his experience, how did it happen that they all had got together on this small patch of land?

And maybe the thing is that he’s just got used to them and learnt to forgive them?..

Hardy never answered his own question, because Maggie suddenly interrupted his thoughts:

– Right. Here’s something you might like. I didn’t pay much attention to it because it happened almost at the same time as Trish’s case and my… well, I mean, it was quite a busy time. Look at this.

Hardy awkwardly sat on the chair close to her and fished his glasses out of the pocket. While he was trying to find the lines, Maggie already read aloud what had grabbed her attention.

– Here. Six months ago: “Patrick Sommers, the ‘King’s Arms’ bartender reported his regular missing ”… Ah, no wait. I remember that one. It’s not what you need.

– No? What d’you mean? Six months? Why don’t I remember that? Who worked on the case?

– You were up to your ears in Leo Humphries’s trial back then. Besides there were no real case. Two days after the bartender’s report that poor guy was found. It was an accident: he got drunk and walked down the hill.  Fell over, broke his neck. Don’t look at me like that.  It really _was_ an accident – the forensics searched the place. Didn’t find anything suspicious. Sommers said that it was not the first time that man, Hugh Parker, got so drunk he couldn’t see where he was going. He was an old homeless alcoholic. The case was closed very soon.

– Wait, you mean, Sommers called the police because of a missing regular who was a homeless drunk?

– Looks like it. Must have noticed that Parker hadn’t turned up for a few days, thought that something was wrong. Knowing that Parker can be careless…

– Yes, but why? His bar got rid of a non-paying alcoholic – he should be happy, shouldn’t he?

– Not everyone thinks like that, – Maggie looked at him disapprovingly. – Maybe, he’s just a good man, this Sommers.

– Hah, – he stood up at looked down at Maggie. – My experience tells me that nine times out of ten “good” appears to be the most suspicious thing.

Hardy looked away so that he could pretend not to notice her smoldering eye that she would most certainly give him.

He was surprised when out of the corner of his eye he saw sorrow and… pity on her face instead.

– Thank you, Maggie, – he mumbled awkwardly halfway to the door. – You’ve helped me a lot. The “Echo” lost a lot when you left.

– Oh, please, – she was back to her normal sarcastic self. – You could have googled it all yourself.

 


	3. Chapter 3

Hardy was grateful for being able to drive again. Not only because driving was one of the few ways to calm his nerves at least a bit, but also because it gave him freedom. He was free not to humiliate himself asking some annoyed PC to drive him somewhere at the crack of dawn or even in the middle of the night. He was free not to tell Miller of all his whereabouts. Especially when he knew that a certain trip will give her a cause to yell at him at best and to sneer at worst.

Actually this wasn’t fair. When it was about _her_ intuition it was OK to listen and respect. He respected her instincts, everyone did including CSI Clark. But if he happened to mention _his_ bad feelings – they always made laugh of him. When did it even start? Wasn’t she once a naïve DS who’d lived with a murderer? Wasn’t it Hardy who fist taught her to pay attention to details and suspect everyone around her?

Nothing to be proud of here, he sighed.

Anyway.

Now he really had a bad feeling.

*

At this time of the day “King’s Arms ” was quieter than the CID café. A strong elderly man, with reddish but friendly face was drying out the glasses, switching the radio channels every now and then and frowning when he didn’t like the music. Two tourists were having a quick dinner at the table near the window. To have dinner in a bar is an awkward thing to do. If only you don’t start drinking since noon. This was not Hardy’s case. So he could forget about trying to make everything look natural.

He went straight to the counter.

– DI Hardy? – the bartender surprised him saying his name as if they’d known each other for ages.

– Have we met before? – Hardy asked that only to be polite (or rather, to point out, that the other man was being impolite); he knew perfectly well that they’d never met before, he was quite good at remembering faces.

– No, but I know you. Saw you on tele. I’m sorry if I seemed rude to you. In this places when a man appears on TV more than twice, he’s already kind of a celeb. It’s an honour for me to have you in my bar. Although I didn’t think you drank.

– And you were right, Mr… Sommers?

– That’s me, – he put another glass aside and reached for Hardy’s hand across the counter. His handshake was firm but delicate like a handshake of a kind and sincere person. Or a person who wanted to seem kind and sincere. – Then what do I owe your visit, detective?

– Half a year ago you reported one of your regulars missing…

– Ah, poor old Hugh… He was found later, his neck broken. And no one even came to the funeral.

– But he was homeless, wasn’t he?

– So what? Do you think a tramp’s soul is smaller than yours or let’s say mine? I’ll tell you what, the size of a soul can easily be measured by the amount of pain it carries. By how much and how often it hurts. And judging by all the spirits Hugh consumed – his soul was really something…

Bartender-philosopher – an iconic image. Hardy winced inwardly, suspecting that Sommers was pondering over the size of _his_ soul judging by the number of Hardy’s visits to the pubs. The number was zero.

– But I’d still like to ask: why did you report about him? I’m not saying anything about Mr. Parker’s soul. But it does look a bit weird: a homeless man disappears, he’s an alcoholic and he probably used to drink at your expense… You could have considered it a natural thing if not a good fortune.

– There was nothing ‘good’ in Hugh’s death, – Sommers almost got furious. – And nobody in this place will tell you that it’s good that Hugh’s died. You know nothing, DI Hardy – you don’t  drink…

Hardy almost regretted it already. And not for the first time.

Will this man ever get to the point?

– It doesn’t matter that Hugh never paid me. With money I mean. Actually he’d given me more than any of those fat and shallow bastards. When Hugh was here I never had empty tables. Even those who usually hang around the “Golden Lion” came here instead. All because of Hugh…

– Because of a homeless alcoholic?

– Leave his home alone! As if every decent person had one! You obviously do, well, be happy and shut up.

Hardy shuddered. He almost forgot that bartenders are not only philosophers but also amateur psychotherapists.

– Hugh hadn’t always been homeless. And he hadn’t always been a drunk. In the past he used to fly a military jet. He was suspended for health reasons. They ruined the man’s life, totally… It was all he had, you know. You can’t take such things away. Of course he’d let himself go. .. But what stories he used to tell! We could listen to them from evening till dawn… And we did! People would fill him with beer and start to beg: tell us this, Hugh, tell us that, tell us something new… And he was happy to please them. His story-telling was like flying…

– Do you happen to now, why was he suspended?

– Because of his heart, – Sommers shrugged. – They were afraid he would collapse in the air, crash the plane and kill someone.

– You… – Hardy barely kept his emotions at bay. – You don’t know exactly what heart problems he had, do you?

– Not really, no. But I think at first he tried to get it fixed. He hoped they’d take him back. The hell they did.

– Thank you very much, Mr. Sommers. You’ve been most helpful. If we have any other questions, we’ll get in touch with you.

– I can’t see any “us”, DI Hardy. You’ve come alone. It’s weird. Why, is no one else interested in the poor old tramp’s death? Or maybe you have some personal interest in him?

Bloody hell, is he also a detective, or what? You’d want to leave soon before any of his other talents transpire.

– One police officer is more than enough to interview a witness for the first time.

– Well-well. Do you want a pint before leaving? Since you are alone?

Didn’t he saw me drive? – thought Hardy. His brain was feverishly considering all options. Sommers clearly knew more than he told, but he either didn’t trust Hardy or was hiding something he needed to know. His offer looked like a… test? OK, then. Let’s test each other.

– I don’t drink, – Hardy said and went to the door. But before he left he turned his head and added. – The doctors won’t let me.

 

***

It’s absolute nonsense. If he tells Miller about his thoughts, she will make fun of him, and the whole station will know it. But if he is right other people might be in danger. Including…

That’s how it appeared – another shit plan. Though Hardy instinctively started to carry it out while talking to Sommers, only now did he understand that it might be serious. If he _is_ right. Maybe he should tell boss after all? Or at least Miller? I he is wrong she’ll kill him for dragging her into this shit. And if he is right she will kill him for not dragging her into this shit. Although… if he is right, there might not be anyone for her to kill.

Hardy stopped at the parking near the hospital. The theory needed to be checked. First of all he went to the morgue.

Waiting for the papers lasted for several hours. And when Hardy finally made his way up to the surgery he was absolutely exhausted. At the reception he accidentally bumped into Miller.

– No way! You’ve finally turned up? Was it so hard to get here a bit earlier? We agreed that we were helping each other, not that I was just helping you.

– Did we…

– What? Didn’t you come here because of me? Shit, Hardy, you could have at least lied. I’ve finished here anyway.

– Why would I lie?

She rolled her eyed.

– I don’t know, to give me hopes that you still have a bit of conscience maybe. Why did you come here anyway?

There were loads of doctors and patients around and Miller’s loud voice immediately attracted everyone’s attention. Hardy desperately wanted to crawl under the table and hide in the corner. But he just gritted his teeth and said trying to stop his voice from shaking.

– I was nearby, decided to stop by and make an appointment.

– What?! – all annoyance was gone in a second giving way to fear and concern. She spoke in a lower voice, knowing that he got used to concealing his problems whatever they were. – Is it your heart condition again? You didn’t tell…

– It’s not a condition! – Hardy used the opportunity to raise his voice. – I’m just feeling tired these weeks, more than before. It’s nothing. But have to make sure it’s not the pacemaker malfunction. If the case is opened I’d better be in shape. I don’t want to be pushed aside and replaced by some useless DS, who can’t see the difference between an accident and a murder.

And he went out wondering if Miller will put two and two together. He felt horrible. These were two low blows at once: to make her worry about him, and to point out the incompetence of Broadchurch police. He only hoped that the second blow would neutralize the first one.

– Oh. Good luck then. And don’t worry. It’s not necessarily the pacemaker, it might just be age.

– What?

– Well, all this fatigue thing – it’s OK for people of your age. Remind me, how old will you be in a couple of days?

– Did you get the computer? – he changed the topic.

– Yes, I did. It was a bit hard: you never mentioned it was a full-size PC, not a laptop, I had to call for a team. When the case is opened officially, boss will kill you for this.

– If.

– What?

– If it is opened.

– Do you care for this so much because..? You know…

– No.

– Because you know what he’s going through? What his wife’s going through?

– Go home, Miller, it’s late. I’m seeing the doctor early in the morning tomorrow. I’ll try to be in the office by lunch time when the results on the phone and computer arrive.  
  
*

And he went to his car without even asking her if she needed a lift.

– Knob, – muttered Ellie, but the next second she realized that all this time her fingers were playing with the car keys. – A very attentive knob.

It was strange that he talked about his illness in public like that. Maybe it was a good sign and he was finally over it? Has he stopped worrying about his heart that could kill him any moment? She didn’t think so. The opposite was more likely.

And that was the bloody missing man’s fault.

Hardy was always scolding Ellie for taking cases to heart. He said that she wasn’t tough enough with suspects, that she couldn’t  keep her distance, that she gave her personal number to victims and worked as a physiological support service for them.

But he himself was even worse!

Ellie felt sorry for the victims and their families, she never could be indifferent to their grief. But he… In his case it wasn’t pity, it was _com_ passion, agony. If he managed – and he always managed to do that – to find anything that he and the victims had in common, he felt their sorrow, their loss, their pain, as if it was his sorrow, his loss, his pain. It pushed him forward, made him the best detective, but it was also eating away at him bit by bit. One could only be glad that this poor heart of his didn’t stop because of every slightest stress or shock anymore. It didn’t, did it? She wanted to hope. Why was he going to the doctor in the middle of investigation, which he’d started himself?..

 

***

Hardy still felt embarrassed because of talking about his health in front of everyone, and what was even worse – in front of Miller. The memory itself made him want to hit his head on a steering wheel at leave the town forever.

– Nonsense, – he stopped himself and looked at the passenger seat where two thin files lay, reminding him about the case.

Not much, but it should be enough. The most important thing was that the materials still proved his theory. And that he had the address.

When he came home it was already dark.

Only now Hardy realized how tired he was. He hasn’t been so exhausted for ages. It was good. In a way. He was back in the field again. He took the files and got out of the car.

He wished Daisy wasn’t in bed yet. They haven’t called each other all day, and it’s been a long day. And tomorrow may be even longer. He had to explain her everything. Let alone that he simply missed her. He needed his daughter. ..

It was dark in the hall. Hardy resisted the temptation to drop something noisy and wake her if she was already asleep. But it wasn’t necessary…

– Let me guess: a new case?

Daisy turned the light on and actually saved him from the boots that were dangerously standing right on his way.

– Aye…

She hasn’t washed away her make up yet. What time is it? Hardy anxiously squinted at his watch. He should tell her not to stay up late. Next time. When it is his turn to do the bollocking. And it’s definitely not today.

– Oh, Jeez, look at you! – she came up to him and thoroughly examined his miserable form. – Anything serious?

– Maybe.

– Are you going to keep saying one word an hour or shall we talk like normal people?

– I’m not… Daiz, I can’t discuss cases with you, you know that. And it’s not even a case yet. Chief Super hasn’t opened the investigation officially yet…

– So you actually _can_ talk about it. If it’s _not “a case”_ yet, eh?

She has changed a lot in the last five months. From a frightened girl who could do nothing but make mistakes and hide herself from the consequences, she’s turned into a young woman who’s overcome her fear and shame, who’s learnt to like herself and use the newly gained strength.

Hardy hoped in his heart that he’d helped her in this respect at least a bit. He even gladly accepted the fact that her “newly gained strength” was most frequently used on him.

– I must be overrating it. They are right; there’s nothing so…

– Hey, hey, Dad. Look at me, – she reached for his shoulders and turned his face to the light carefully studying it. In the moments like this she reminded him of her mother more than ever; these light grey eyes – cool, but so calm and firm, that you wanted to trust them with everything;  they knew what would be better for him. It was so good to have such eyes nearby. – If you are worried, that means there is something to worry about. I know your instincts. And everyone in this town should better know them! – she added, more angrily, than he could have expected. This also reminded him of Tess.

– We’ll see. Tomorrow, – he said to calm her down and rubbed his eyes.

– I haven’t seen you like this for… I don’t know… half a year. Go and take a shower while I’m warming up your dinner. I know you; after being in the water you always rise from the dead.

Hardy flinched. Her strange choice of words reminded him that case from his other life for the second time in one day. He tried not to think about it and just obediently trudged to the bathroom.

Daisy had been right; the hot shower washed away part of the strain and exhaustion, and gave him the pleasant feeling of peace and comfort.

Daisy put a plate on the table. It was hot and smelt delicious.

– Chicken vegetable stew, – she nodded. – If you eat all of it, you’ll get a dessert.

He was suddenly so moved that he smiled and before starting his late dinner he came up to his daughter and hugged her as if they hadn’t seen each other for ages.

– Hey, what’s wrong? – he heard her muffled voice. She struggled to lift her head from his chest a bit. – If you’re doing this to get the cake, don’t even try.

Hardy smiled again and kissed her head silently. It wasn’t as easy as it used to be. She’s grown up, his little girl.

– Da-ad? You’re scaring me. Come on, sit down and tell me what has happened.

– I’m just happy to see you. I’m happy that you are at home. That… well… that I have a home. And that I have you in it. Oh… – after this unexpected confession Hardy got scared that the amount of soppiness had gone beyond all limits. He shrank his head into the shoulders, let her go awkwardly and trudged to the table.

– Okay, – Daisy sat down and waited patiently for him to get out of his shell.

Hardy began eating.

– You can tell me everything, you know that, don’t you? – she said at last as if she was offering him to tell her about a book he’d just read. – I’m also glad to be here, Dad.

She stood up and kissed him on his head just like he did a minute ago. And stepped aside as quickly as he did.

Hardy swallowed hard around the lump in his throat almost choking on a piece of chicken.

Daisy started making tea.

 

***

Daisy felt that something was wrong. She always did. Her parents said it was because she was a daughter of two detectives. When she was small she didn’t pay attention to those feelings due to her childish selfishness. But recently – much later than she should have – she realized how much this gloomy stubborn man, her Dad, had done for her. And she understood that he needed her care as much as she needed his.

– And why doesn’t your boss want to open the case? – she asked casually when they were having tea.

– Because the man that had gone missing called his wife the day before she reported, – Hardy answered automatically and only afterwards realized what had happened. – Hey! You did it again!

– Yep, – she grinned. He always fell for that trick; if anyone asked him a sudden question while he was brooding, he would answer it before thinking if he should answer it at all. But she was doing it for his own sake, wasn’t she? – And you think it’s abduction, right? Why?

– The circumstances are quite strange. His wife is sure that he couldn’t have left like that, and that he sounded weird when talking on the phone. Besides… – he hesitated, and Daisy moved closer feeling that now he’ll tell her the most important part. – He has a pacemaker. And his wife is worrying that he might be in danger. But that’s not all, Daiz… I’ve checked if any people had gone missing in the recent years in Broadchurch and around it. I’ve found one incident that had looked like a missing person first but later turned out to be an accidental death. And can you imagine what I have found out? The second missing man also had a heart condition and even had a pacemaker as well!

– When was it?

– Half a year ago when we were in the course of Trish’s trial.

– Could just be a coincidence.

 – Of course it could. But judging by my experience, such coincidences happen quite rarely.

– Do you think it may have something to do with pacemakers?

– For now it’s the only thing they have in common. Apart from mysterious disappearance.

– And what does Ellie think?

 He looked down and frowned. Oh, this idiot, he’s struggling with his guesses and doubts alone again! Daisy was itching to give him a good bollocking. But she understood that she’d willingly agreed to play another part this time.

– You didn’t tell her, did you? – disapproval could still be heard in her voice, though she tried not to show it.

– I didn’t want to drag her into it without her agreement. Again. Besides, tomorrow the case will be opened and she’ll _have to_ agree with me.

– But..?

– I couldn’t wait till tomorrow, Daiz. It’s a man’s life. If it’s abduction for murdering, every minute might be precious. And what if we don’t find the one who’s done it, and he does it again? Other people might get hurt. Do you remember what I told you – I’m here to protect this bloody town and to look after you…

– Well, this time it looks like _I’m_ quite safe. If you are right, then this kidnapper – whoever he is – is more interested in bearded old men with pacemakers than in pretty young girls.

Daisy looked up at her father waiting for his reaction to her absolutely reasonable comment. But he… Oh, shit!

– What?! No-o-oo… Now, look at me. Oh, no-no-no-no-no, I know this look!

She could read everything on his face. Daisy even felt sorry for him; how on earth did he manage to hide his bad grades from his parents when he was at school? He probably didn’t.

– Please, don’t tell me it _is_ your plan? It’s another shit plan, Dad!

– Language.

– But it is. Look at him, he doesn’t even deny it!

– There is no plan. I haven’t thought of or done anything. Tomorrow I’m going to talk to the owner of the firm that produces those pacemakers that the missing people both had. Have… Had. By this time the case will be opened. And I will have a head start. Everything is perfectly safe.

– Yet.

– What do you mean, “yet”?

– Before you bump into the one who’s doing it and he finds out that you are a perfect next victim.

– We don’t know how he chooses his victims. If there is a “he”.

– That’s very encouraging. Dad, you’ll be 48 in less than a week, and you haven’t played enough Bond yet!

– Oi! Have a bit of mercy for your sick old dad, will you?

Daisy laughed and threw her arms around his neck again.

– Promise me not to do anything stupid.

– I promise that I’ll try, – he said and Daisy felt him sigh.

– It’s not fair. You know that you’re making me worry about you, though it should be vice versa?

– There’s nothing to worry about. Listen. I know it’s a shit plan, and I hope I won’t have to carry it out. But. If I have to – can you hear: only if I’m forced to do it… – remember that I have backups.

– Very encouraging again.

– If you think that something’s gone wrong – call Miller and tell her to turn my laptop on.

– And what will there be?

– She’ll make it out. Just tell her not to use the hammer.

– Dad!

– It’s only for emergencies, remember. Nothing has happened yet, and most likely nothing will happen. Old men often become paranoid. Especially when they have no decent work for months. Try to get used to it.

Daisy rolled her eyed. Was he becoming even more unbearable as he grew older, or was he just spending more time at home?

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Again: sorry for the mistakes; English syntax suddenly seems so tough to use when writing a story. ;)
> 
> ***  
> Thanks to nannyogg123 for her beautiful Broadchurch stories, I think all that "Hardy and a shit plan" thing is inspired by her works more than by the original series. :)


	4. Chapter 4

He’d left before she woke up. He cancelled the appointment when he was already on his way to another city. He had barely slept. Preparations took half of the night, guilty conscience ate the other. He felt badly, especially for frightening Daisy. And for endangering her – whether he wanted to admit it or not.

Hardy entered a typically looking business centre and came up to the receptionists. For some reason there were three of them, and he couldn't make out whom he should address to. So the entire speech he'd prepared vanished from his memory. Hardy began to mumble.

– I… er… I'm Hardy.. DI Alec Hardy, Wessex police.

– Good morning, detective, how can I help you, – answered one of the girls, and Hardy was relieved to stop his eyes on her.

– I've an appointment. With the head of your company. Ms...

– Ms Dedalus? When did you arrange the meeting? I can't remember getting the details…

– Yesterday. I think I talked to her private secretary.

– Yesterday?

Three pairs of eyes stared at Hardy in surprise. It was disturbing.

– Is anything wrong?

– No, it's just… I can't remember Ms. Dedalus agree to meet anyone that quickly. You said you were a police officer, right? But not a local one, right?

– Aye.

– Has anything…

– It’s confidential, – Hardy shut her up a bit more harshly than he should have and immediately regretted it; now they'll be even more curious about this.

– OK, I'll call Ms. Dedalus's secretary, she'll take you to the office.

 

***

Ms. Dedalus was a tall woman, about forty, wearing a plain but expensive suit typical for a head of a company. There was something proud in her features – something Spanish or maybe Greek. It made the contrast even greater, when he saw a trace of panic in her almond eyes at the sight of a detective.

Hardy noticed that and added to the imaginary file with “evidence that can't be used in court”.

However, she got herself together at once, and throughout the whole conversation she was nice and absolutely impassive.

– I know, it might look like coincidence, but both men had your pacemakers. Moreover, as far as I know, they got them almost at the same time. It’s the only connection between them, apart from the town they lived in...

– Excuse me, I’m not sure if I get it right… What about the nature of the crime – or how do you call it? I mean, were their deaths alike?

Hardy hesitated. He was not allowed to give her the details, but he needed to steer the conversation in the right direction.

– The most recent victim… We still talk about him as missing, not dead. But if we are right, – he allowed himself this little lie – the plural of the pronoun – once more. – If these crimes are somehow connected, we might soon get another body.

– And what does it have to do with me and our pacemakers? – she was still talking calmly, but Hardy felt a high concrete wall behind the door he was trying to get through.

– I don’t know yet. That’s why I’m here. Maybe you could remember some unusual incidents that took place at your firm for years ago? Perhaps there happened something…

– …That made someone kill patients who had got our pacemakers? – she smirked and Hardy felt like a total idiot. Indeed, when it was said aloud, his theory sounded like ravings of a madman.

Maybe I _am_ going out of my mind with all that boredom, – Hardy scolded himself.

However something made him think that it was still too early to give up.

– It’s hard to imagine, – continued Ms. Dedalus. – Although I can’t be sure; I wasn’t working here much in those days. I mostly developed our business abroad. Father ran the company.

– Your father?

– Yes. Didn’t you know? Percival Dedalus. He was a scientist, the main engineer of our devices. It was he who organized a mass production of his own models, started a company that produced and sold them. His business has been growing and thriving for thirty years already.

– And now he is..?

– He died. About three years ago.

– I see. I mean… I’m sorry.

– My father was a great man. His name has never been connected with anything dishonest let alone crimes. He’d helped people all his life. And my duty is to make sure that even after his death people still respect him and praise him. As he deserves it.

There was something menacing in her voice when she said that.

– I see. And could I possibly talk to someone who used to work with your father back then?

– I don’t think anyone would be able to help you. Most of the people who were close to him are retired now. I can give you their details but I doubt it would be useful. There were also some young assistants, but those guys got their tickets to life and ran away after Dad’s death, like rats off the sinking ship. I have no idea where they are now.

– We’ll appreciate any kind of information you can share, – Hardy put down his personal e-mail on her card. Believe me, the sooner we solve this case the fewer people get hurt. And if you’ve nothing to hide – you’ve nothing to worry about. Everything is that simple.

– Are you threatening me, detective?

Shit, what is natural in the interview room, is not quite appropriate here…

– Oh, God, no. Absolutely not. I swear, I really respect what your father did… and what you… er… do.  

Hardy’s hand was already on the door handle. Ms. Dedalus stood up to see him off. Hardy couldn’t look her in the eye when he continued:

– Believe me, I realize how important this is. I got a pacemaker myself almost four years ago, and it just… I wouldn’t have been standing here with you, if not for that.

He made himself look up at last.

There was something new in her eyes; it was fear again as when she first met him, but it was a different kind of fear. It disappeared as quickly as it did the first time. Maybe he was just imagining it?

– Really? Was it made here? – she asked, as if she was amused by the coincidence.

– To be honest I don’t quite remember. I mean I’m not sure I ever knew the brand. They might have told me but I wasn’t paying much attention back then… It was a bit… er… hard time…

He swallowed hard trying not to think back to the cold operating table, to the smell of medicine and old sweat on hospital sheets. To the needles pushing something alien into his veins, something that’s running you through pinning you like a butterfly… To the sticky hands in rubber gloves, indifferently touching his bare chest where the bloody heart is beating wildly as if it has gone mad with fear…

– I just want to help, it’s my job, – he managed to say at last. Something that resembled the long-forgotten dizziness made him hold on the door handle tighter.

– I’ll send you the details of those colleagues, – she nodded, and Hardy left the office.

 

***

Chief Super was waiting for him in the CID. Furious. Hardy squinted looking at his watch. No, he’s managed to come on time. So it was not about his absence without leave. What was it, then? There were too many options to even try guessing.

– Alec, you’re acting like a school boy! – Clark barked instead of greetings.

– Eh?

Why do all his bosses enjoy calling him “Alec”? Are they trying to show their superiority? Or do they simply do it to annoy him?

– What do you think you are doing?

– What I am doing..? Excuse me, ma’am, I’m not entirely sure, I’ve just arrived. I hope, Miller’s told you…

She looked embarrassed, and Hardy was ashamed. In the past two days he’s used his bloody condition too often. And it wasn’t even a bloody condition.

– The results on Fiona Taylor’s phone have arrived. She was right, her husband hadn’t called from London…

– Then where did he call from?

– Let me finish! From Southampton. That doesn’t mean we should treat his disappearance as suspicious, but I’ve decided to give in and open the case. First of all I sent a team to search the  Taylors’ house and check the computer. And what did I find there? Or rather what I _didn’t_ find there.

– Tom Taylor’s computer…

– Tom Taylor’s fucking computer! Ellie Miller confessed that you’d made her confiscate the victim’s property before the case was opened.

– I didn’t make her, I…

– Don’t quibble! Bloody hell… Will you care to explain?

– And what did you expect me to do? Eh? You tied my hands, we were losing time. And meanwhile, a man is still missing. A man who might need medical help. I’ve saved half a day for us. In a couple of hours we’ll have the data from the computer. And if I were sitting back we’d have received them tomorrow morning at best.

She wanted to say something else, but then just gave in.

– Pray your methods don’t jeopardize the investigation. I know you’re bloody good at it.

That was a low blow. Three years have passed. Three years – and they still brought up Sandbrook and Joe Miller… Hardy had got up too early to be able to continue the argument.

– Fine, – he nodded. – I need Miller and documents on the case.

– Ellie is at Taylors’ house supervising the search. She’ll call you when she’s done there. Go to the Tom’s office, interview his colleagues; they must have been the last people to see him in Broadchurch. Who’s gonna get the results on the computer?

– Miller and I.

– Keep me updated.

– Sure, ma’am. Wait, did you say that Taylor had called from Southampton? May I go there? I mean, later.

But he already has… he has been to Southampton. This morning.

– The location is inexact. He must have called from a car or something like that. I’ve asked for the CCTV footage. We’ll see it later. When there is anything to see.

 

***

Taylor’s colleagues  appeared to be quite helpful. His young assistant remembered that on the day Tom disappeared he went out to talk on the phone, after which he returned, dark as a cloud, and immediately asked to let him leave earlier.

At least Hardy knew that if it was abduction, Tom Taylor met the kidnapper himself. He was pretty sure.

 CCTV records confirmed that his car had gone along the highway towards London. This proved the story Tom had told his wife on the phone. However the phone itself told that Taylor had been lying.

The computer was the most disappointing of all leads: it didn’t give anything useful at all. Just ordinary e-mails to friends and colleagues. No suspicious messages, no encrypted files.

His only hope was Southampton.

It was already dark when Hardy headed home. He was the last to leave, again. Well, almost the last. Only one car was leaving the CID parking at the same time as he was. Silver Porsche. Hardy didn’t remember whom it belonged to.

He was already driving past the pharmacy when his phone rang. It’s close to home, maybe he could answer when he gets there? The lights in the pharmacy were off – what time is it? Could it be nine already? Well, it didn’t matter; he still did have the prescription… The phone had no intention to shut up.

– What?

– DI Hardy, this is Fiona.

– Fiona..? Ah, Mrs. Taylor! How are you?

– Tom’s back.

Hardy hit the brakes.

– What?!

– Tom. My husband. He’s come back home, – her voice was a bit muffled. – He says he visited his friend in London and went to some other places to solve his problem. He won’t give me any details. I thought I should call you straight away. So that you could… well… close the case. I’m so ashamed for all this panic. Tom is so angry that I didn’t believe him. And that I gave you the computer. Do you happen to know when I can get it back?

– Tomorrow, I suppose. Fiona, may I come and talk to your husband now? Just to clarify the situation.

– I’m not… He said he was very tired and wanted to go to bed early. Maybe you could do it tomorrow? I’m really very sorry…

– That’s OK, Fiona, don’t worry. What matters is that he’s safe, right?

– Right… He looked really exhausted. As if those times were back… you know… before the surgery. I think he is just tired after the long trip, isn’t he?

– Maybe… – Hardy stopped listening to her pitiful mumbling, because something in the rear-view mirror caught his eye.

The silver Porsche stopped right behind of him.

– Mrs. Taylor, please, call the police, tell them that your husband has returned. I’ll see him tomorrow before he leaves for work, OK?

Hardy opened the door still looking at the other vehicle.

– Yes, yes. Thank you so much, DI Hardy. I was so lucky to have met you; you took me so seriously… Even though everything has turned out to be fine… I… I just can’t imagine what would have happened if he didn’t return. But when I saw you, I somehow felt much safer… You were not indifferent, and that…

– Thanks for calling, Mrs. Taylor. Sorry, I have to go.

– Yes, sure… I’m sorry, I’ve already wasted too much of your time. Take care.

Hardy hung up and snorted. She couldn’t choose better time for those words.  

He was going along the dark street towards the car that had been following him.

Maybe it would be better to go back to his car and drive away? But if it is someone… he can’t take them to his home. To Daisy…

Go back to the CID, call for backup – that’s what he needed to do. But if they are following _him_ , they’ll find another opportunity. After all whoever they are, they won’t make him avoid his own house.

Hardy made a few more steps towards the car and turned on the flashlight on his phone.

– Hey! – he shouted. – Any problems? Hey?

He was five feet away when the driver’s door suddenly opened.

– DI Hardy, look out!

– You?! I knew I was right… What are you..?

– No! Behind you! – she yelled, and Hardy turned around…

…To hear a loud pop and to see a dark figure with unnaturally white hands holding a gun.

Hardy got down. And the next second the phone slipped out from his hand and fell on the ground. A burning pain filled his arm. It knocked him over but he didn’t pass out. Not at once.

His heart was racing as if it was trying to escape the metal box in his chest. Pain – which he hasn’t forgotten yet but would have liked to forget – was already worse than the heat in the arm shattered by the bullet. Through the haze Hardy saw Ms. Dedalus jump out of the car and shot the attacker twice. She must have missed, for that guy fired randomly one more time and ran off.

“Why does everyone in this country have a gun? Except for the cops…” – an idle thought went through Hardy’s hazy mind.

– After him… – he gasped, trying to point his trembling bloody fingers in the direction of where the attacker had run.

– No way, – snapped Ms. Dedalus, crouching next to him and touching his neck. – Ooh, this is bad, DI Hardy…

As if it heard her words, the pacemaker finally went off. Hardy’s poor heart that had lived three years almost peacefully didn’t suspect such treachery. His back arched, spasmed, and everything went dark.


	5. Chapter 5

Ellie was sure that as soon as Hardy heard the news about Taylor he’d rush to the CID. Or even to Taylor’s house. When came to lies and secrets he could me amazingly disrespectful.

She called his mobile, but it was turned off. Well, _that_ was weird. Actually _quite_ weird, given the fact that they were in the course of investigation that he had been so desperate to start. OK, she’ll try again before going to bed…

However at about eleven her own phone rang.

– Hello? – She was surprised to see Daisy Hardy’s face on the screen.

– Ellie, hi. Is my Dad there with you?

– N-no. I thought he’d gone home… – Ellie heard Daisy inhale sharply and cursed herself for frightening the girl. – Listen, it’s been a long day. And to top it off, it has turned out that everything was for nothing; our missing guy has turned up.

– Has he? Do you mean he’s OK?

– As far as I know.

– That’s weird… So, where’s Dad then?

– As I told you, he must be… I’ll find out and call you back, OK?

– OK...

 

***

He didn’t know where he was. He felt like he was moving. Falling. Panic was taking hold of him more and more with every second. His heart was racing. Hurting. Finally he understood he should open his eyes.

It’s dark. As if everything disappeared after that shock… Or is it he who disappeared?

However, his throbbing chest and head as well as the pain that had spread all over the right half of his body, meant that he might still be alive. Although… If he is in hell pain proves nothing. They say pain is quite an ordinary thing there. Hardy didn’t believe in hell. He had enough of it in life.

It was uncomfortable to lie – aye, it seemed he was lying… Hardy tried to move. At that very moment the car – oh, the car! – jolted, the hell of a pain from his right side spilled over, flooded everything. Darkness fell again.

 

***

– Daisy? It’s me. You know, they told me in the CID that he’d gone home.

– And what about that missing guy, who’s come back?

– His wife says that she called Alec, but asked him not to come. They agreed to meet tomorrow morning. Which is actually quite odd, he doesn’t often listen to other people’s requests.

– Ellie, I’m scared… I think he’s going to do something stupid.

– What do you mean? – Daisy’s fear made Ellie worry too. Hardy hasn’t got into troubles for a long time already. And he surely wouldn’t risk now, when he is responsible for his daughter, unless it’s absolutely crucial. However… When it came to Hardy, the notion of “absolutely crucial” was rather vague.  Ellie remembered Claire Ripley, whom he had been hiding from her murderous husband for ages. She remembered Pippa Gillespie whose body he had dragged out of the river. And she remembered Danny’s case which he’d been willing to solve even with his life… And then there was his visit to the doctor today…

– Yesterday he was very upset that no one takes the case seriously, – said Daisy.

– Upset? – Of course he was, why is she so surprised? As Hardy is acting like a total knob most of the time, you can sometimes forget about all that compassion in his silly heart. But it is there. Ellie thought about it only yesterday. – What did he say?

– I fear that he… Oh, I really hope it’s not too early to tell you. Because if I give it away in vain, he’ll be furious. But I’d better tell you early than when it’s already too late.

– Give away what? Daisy, what is this plot about?

– My Dad has a new shit plan. He thinks this case has something to do with those pacemakers both missing people had. I’m not sure, but I think Dad hopes that this kidnapper will meet him himself, when he finds out that Dad also has a…

– Oh, dear!

– Yeah.

– But, Daisy, we have nothing to worry about. Alec was wrong; Tom Taylor has come back home – it was neither a murder nor an abduction.

– It wasn’t – _this_ time. What about the second case?

– The second case was an accident.

– But where is Dad then?

– Hmm… Staying late, somewhere in the town?

– He would have told me. His phone’s turned off.

– It might have died. The phone, I mean.

– Ellie, can you come here? I need to show you something.

*

– What’s this?

– Dad’s laptop. He said if I feel something’s wrong, I must call you and show you this. I decided not to wait and opened. I think this is…

– A tracking device. Bastard, he’s spoilt my revenge!

– What?

– Oh, that doesn’t matter.

– This thing shows where he is, doesn’t it? We can find him.

– Yes. Or rather _I_ can. I can find him. This bloody idiot got into trouble and left me an Ariadne's clew that would lead me to the dragon’s tower… Oop’s. Sorry for talking like this about your Dad.

– That’s OK. I’d say the same if I weren’t shaking.

– Don’t worry. I’ll find him. And I’ll bring him here so that we could do the bollocking together. Agreed?

– Yeah… May I come with you?

– No. First of all, because he wanted _me_ to do it; he preferred _me_ to take the risk, not you, you see?

Daisy chuckled.

– Besides someone has to stay here. Someone who knows where we are, at least approximately.

– And where is this place?

– It’s not very far. Just a couple of miles from Broadchurch. I’ll be in touch.

– Thanks, Ellie. Dad’s is lucky to have a friend like you.

– I’m not sure he will agree with you after the bollocking that’s coming.

 

***

Now he was most definitely lying. Where? Hardy lifted his heavy eyelids – the light was bright and painful. He flinched and closed his eyes tight again. He must have groaned, because someone put a hand on his shoulder.

– Sh-shhh. Easy. Don’t move. It’s OK.

Oh, right! Maybe it’s up to me to decide what is or isn’t OK? After all it was I, who got shot.

Shot… Oh, dear, when did something like that happen to him last? Somewhere in a past life.

Clever fingers rolled up his sleeve. He felt something cold and wet on his skin, and then…

A needle went into his vein – sharp and confident, as if it knew the way.

– N-no, – he tried to escape it, but another hand pinned him to the bed. He didn’t expect it to be so strong. However now he could probably be knocked over by a child.

Hardy passed out again before he heard the sound of fabric that was being cut.

 

***

Shit! Shit! Shit!

It was past midnight. She was to be at home with the boys – not to drive through the night hell knows where to save that misery of a Bond.

Ellie looked at the laptop screen. She was scared it would die before she gets there. But no, the tracker was still there.

Ellie drove through one of those towns she knew but never visited. What could bring Hardy here? Or rather _who_ could bring him here?..

Ellie tried not to think about it. Of course he’s perfectly fine. Taylor hadn’t been abducted and Hardy is chasing ghosts. She could understand him – he never got used to the fact that the lack of crimes is a normal thing.

Soon she got to the place. It was a small cottage on the outskirts of the town but not too far away. Ellie drove a little bit farther and stopped at a station nearby. She glanced at the screen one last time and got out of the car.

There were no lights in the house. The neighbor’s garden had a lantern, but its light was dim. However, that worked all right for her.  Ellie didn’t want to be noticed too early.

Damn, she was not even an agent Scully let alone a Bond’s girl. Although if you think of Hardy as a Bond… They deserved each other.

Ellie was happy to be wearing a plain black coat instead of her orange parka. If no one is guarding the house she won’t be noticed. There was a hedge around the cottage, rather a tall one, but she found a breach – exactly where it would have been if she had been inside a TV thriller.

Ellie started with the windows facing the backyard. It seemed to make sense.

It was absolutely dark inside the first room. If it goes on like this she’ll find out nothing even if there _is_ anything to find out.

But the next window suddenly made her shiver.

The blinds were shut, but not very thoroughly, so that one corner was still free.

It was also dark in the room, but there still was a light source – a monitor with a green snake of  ECG.

Ellie looked closer. Yes, most definitely – now she could make out a bed standing next to the hospital computers. It looked like it was not empty.

She needed to get inside somehow. She could probably use the window, but it would be too noisy. She was not a Bond’s girl after all.

Ellie tried the back door. It was closed, but the lock didn’t look too hard to break. Ellie tried to open it with a hairpin. When did she do it last? Somewhere in a past life…

Surprisingly it worked.

Ellie entered the house trying not to make the floorboards creek. She tried to make out which room was the one with the monitor… It must be here.

Ellie felt like she was going to be caught any time now.

Carefully, she turned the handle…

…And came in.

She was greeted by the quiet beeping and humming of machines. And only when she realized no one was waiting for her with a gun, she dared to look at the bed.

 She almost wasn't surprised to see Hardy there. Maybe somewhere deep inside she was already expecting it.

But she was shocked to see what state he was in.

– Oh, shit… – muttered Ellie coming up quietly.

He was sleeping or unconscious. At least the monitor said he was alive. Though he didn’t seem to be.

She had already seen him in hospital more than once. Dying. Coming back to life. But this time something was… erm… different.

Ellie had been staring at the poor Bond for a couple of minutes before she realized what was wrong.

Bond was shirtless.

The sheet was covering only a half of his naked chest stuck with ECG dots. Both his arms were exposed and his hands… were cuffed to the bed. Besides there was an IV attached to his left arm, and the right one was bandaged from wrist to elbow. Above the bandage, on his shoulder she saw blood that had not been fully washed away.

Her Bond was wounded. And absolutely vulnerable.

Who could be that cruel to tie up a wounded arm? – Ellie was outraged.

Although… if you think of it…

When the first wave of compassion for Hardy subsided, Ellie had to admit that sometimes she wouldn’t mind to cuff him to the bed herself…

Ough, shit, what is she thinking about?!

No, really, she wasn’t thinking of it at all… she… well, she meant… for safety purposes, to prevent this loony from running away from the hospital as soon as possible…

Ellie felt hot with embarrassment.

She left the bedside took off her coat and set in the chair by the wall.

She needed to write Daisy at least a few words.

“I’ve found your Dad. He’s OK…”

Well, not quite, to be honest…

“I’ve found your Dad. He’s alive…”

Damn, that sounds like he had been in danger of dying.

“I’ve found your Dad. We can’t get back yet because of his shit plan. Go to bed and don’t worry – I’ll look after him.”

It’s not all lying, is it? Well… we’ll see.

If he is sedated she might have to wait till morning or even longer. And she is sure to meet his kidnapper before Hardy wakes up. If he’s unconscious or just sleeping she might try to wake him up. Not very humane, but it would give them a chance to escape. She could try to open the cuffs with the same hairpin that she’d used to open the backdoor…

Ellie returned to the bed. If only she could figure out how deep was his sleep. Pale lips, dark circles under his eyes – he must have lost a lot of blood…

Damn you, Hardy, why can’t you just sit in your office like other normal people?

Because while he is sitting in the office, “other people” are being killed, assaulted and kidnapped.

Ellie sighed. She wanted desperately to get angry with him again. For making her leave the boys in the middle of the night and drive hell knows where, for dragging her into hell knows what, for putting her life in danger. She would be happy to yell at him right now. If he wasn’t lying there half-dead and she didn’t have to strain her eyes to see his chest moving…

Shit, this chest again.

Ellie looked for something to cover her former boss till morning. There was nothing that could be used as a blanket.

Trying to move quietly, she opened one of the wardrobes and found some clean sheets at last. Ellie took one that was long enough for the lanky Scottish frame.

She held her breath and covered Hardy gently.

That was when her phone rang.

Hardy jumped.

Ellie stepped back, cursed under her breath and tried to turn the phone off.

Hardy’s eyes were wide open now. Confusion, realization, panic flashed there in a second. Ellie was frozen on the spot terrified of what might happen next. And it did.

Hardy turned his head and tried to sit up. Too quickly. The fresh wound must have reminded him of itself, for he groaned, lost his balance and fell back on the pillow. His left hand almost knocked the IV over. Fortunately, Ellie finally came to her senses and managed to catch it.

– Sh-shhhh! Easy, easy… It’s me. It’s OK, – she leant forward to him and put a hand on his shoulder.  He was still struggling to wiggle out. Only when she managed to look him in the eye, did he recognize her.

– Miller… – he said hoarsely, still breathing hard. – Got my message..?

– Yeah. Bloody hell, you’ve stolen my revenge – _I_ was meant to shove that tracker into your pants, remember?

– Don’t worry, you can still do it, it wasn’t in my pants…

– I don’t even want to know _where_ it was. It wouldn’t mind to know where _we_ are.

– What do… you mean? Of the two of us you are the one who was… conscious when driving here.

– Yeah, but… I mean, wha… What’s happening? Why are you here? Why are you unconscious?

– I was attacked. In the street… And after that… I’m not sure. Bloody head… – he winced in pain. – I hope you’re not alone.

– What do you mean? Who should I be with?

– Shit, Miller! Don’t tell me you’ve come alone to rescue me.

– I didn’t know you needed to be rescued! Bloody hell.

– I left you a tracker to use in case of emergency; so that if anything happens to me you could call for backups and we’d catch the bastards together. Whoever they are… That was the plan.

– It’s a shit plan. Your plan is absolute crap.

– I know. But it would have worked, if you’d thought before acting. What was the point of going here alone and unarmed?

– I have a pepper spray. I suppose, it’s expired, though. Do you think it’s cruel to spray a maniac with an expired pepper spray?

– It’s  not a maniac.

– Is it? Do you know who’s kidnapped you?

– No… Actually… I have an idea. Anyway, we’ll soon find out; your phone must have woken everyone up. Haven’t they taught you to turn it off on a stakeout?

– It was Bob, by the way. Sent a text afterwards. Your car was found, empty. A couple of blocks from home. And there’s blood on the road.

– I know, – Hardy squinted at his arm. – By the way, what car was outside the house?

– No idea, I’m not quite good at this…

– For God’s sake, Miller, you do drive!

– Yeah, and I also have a phone, but it doesn’t mean I remember what its bloody Chinese name us. Grey, OK? It was grey…ish… I think.

– Right… – he caught his breath, eyes closed. Well, shouldn’t be shouting at your savior while you’re hardly breathing, should you?

– What shall we do? I’ve got the hairpin I used to open the door and…

– No. As we are already here, we’ll finish the job.

– What?

– We’ll find out what’s going on. I was shot, Miller. Tom Taylor’s abduction might not have been an abduction, but it’s still somehow connected with this, I’m sure.

– OK. But don’t you think it may be dangerous here?

– It would have been less dangerous if you took a couple of police officers instead of your expired pepper spray…

He stopped talking. Ellie was hurt. He’s always like this: when he’s not around, you are dying to get his advice or just to know if he’s alive and well. When he is nearby – you just want to strangle him with his own tie.

However, Hardy must have read her mind, because when he continued he looked a bit ashamed.

– Well, actually, I don’t think my kidnapper wants to kill me.

– Doesn’t he? Well, then he obviously hasn’t worked with you.

– Otherwise why would she treat me first?

– That makes sense. Wait… “She”?

– I.

The door opened, and Ellie saw a tall dark-haired woman. Although she was unarmed and looked absolutely normal, Ellie instinctively made a step towards the bed to shield Hardy and started rummaging in her bag. Where’s that bloody pepper spray?

– Miller, Miller… Don’t. – Hardy tried to reach for her, but the cuffs didn’t let him. Still it worked. She turned around.

– Eh? Who’s this? Do you know her?

– Aye. Ms. Dedalus, good… er… morning? This is DI Ellie Miller, we work together. Miller, this is Ms. Dedalus, she’s the head of the company which produces pacemakers. Mr. Taylor has of those. Another man, who died in Broadchurch half a year ago, had the other one. We met this morning… It was this morning, wasn’t it?

– What?! So you didn’t go to see the doctor this morning?! Damn you, Hardy, you made me worry, and you didn’t even have an appointment!

– Well, now I’m definitely going to have it.

Ellie bit her lip. She felt sorry for him but at the same time she desperately wanted to hit him.

– Ms. Dedalus didn’t have much to tell me back then. Something… must have changed?

– DI Hardy, I would strongly advise you not to exert yourself too much. You got shot and shocked by the ICD only a few hours ago.

Ellie gasped and gave Hardy the severest of her mother’s looks.  

The naughty child bit his lip stubbornly – probably not to groan in front of the adults – ignored Ellie and frowned waiting for the suspect /kidnapper to speak.

– You were right – I didn’t tell you everything in the morning. And I would have never changed my mind if not for the words you’d told me when we were parting.

– What words? – Ellie felt like she was watching a film in foreign language.

– About your heart. Before that you’d been just a cop nosing about. I’ve met those frequently. But after those words I understood that you might be in danger. And I was right. I went to Broadchurch, wanted to follow you to your place so that we could talk in private. But then he appeared out of nowhere…

– Who _is_ he?  

– _He_? – Ellie would really appreciate some subtitles.

– The one who shot me.

– I don’t know who he is, – Ms. Dedalus shook her head. – Though I’ve been playing with him for quite a while already. Or rather _against_ him.

– Playing?

– Yes. A game for people lives.


	6. Chapter 6

– So, – Hardy used the dramatic pause and coughed. Both women looked at him in surprise. – That sounds like a beginning of a really long story. If you don’t mind… ahem…It’s not very comfortable to look at you lying like this, – he lifted up his cuffed wrist.

Ms. Dedalus seemed to hesitate for a moment, but then came up to him, and took a key out of her pocket.

– Sure. I did it for your own safety only. I hope you understand. I didn’t want you to stand up or even leave the house in this condition.

– He could have, – Ellie nodded quickly.

– I’m not in a bloody condition!

– See? – Ellie pointed at him.

But Ms. Dedalus didn’t smile. Anyway she took off the handcuffs and helped Hardy to put the pillow up, so that he could sit. He gritted his teeth and clumsily held onto the sheet, Ellie had covered him with. Ellie knew he must hate their looks and his own helplessness which he had never been able to cope with. She tried to look away as if nothing special was happening.

– So, Ms. Dedalus? – He tried to get her speak, when she fell silent again.

– Call me Athena.

– Wow! – Ellie couldn’t help herself. – You must be Greek or something..?

– Miller! We won’t hear anything till dawn, if we go on like this.

– Not at all. I’m absolutely local, really. My father took a pseudonym, when he was just starting his business. His real name seemed not to be impressive enough for a man, who was going to improve a human body, you know. And then he gave _me_ this name hoping that I would carry his torch. He determined my fate, so to speak. You know, the Greek Athena has two roles in mythology; she is the goddess of wisdom and…

– War, – Hardy finished grimly.

– A _just_ war, – Athena corrected him. – She always helped the heroes and saved those whose business on the Earth was unfinished.

– I see. So, who are _you_ fighting with?

– It happened four years ago. Just before my father’s death. They were working on a limited party of new pacemakers. My father and a group of his colleagues and assistants. Everything was going well, but Dad wasn’t sure that the scheme worked properly, and when the party was ready he suddenly changed his mind and decided not to sell or produce those pacemakers. Improvements are required, he said. But there was no time for improvements already.

– He passed away?

– Yes. His own heart stopped unfortunately. Who could have known… He’d saved so many people, he made so many lives longer… But he could do nothing for himself.

– It’s what often happens to good people, – Ellie nodded quietly.

– After his death we got rid of the experimental models, just as he told. A work on the company’s restructuring began, due to the personnel changes, new contracts, that allowed us not only to go on functioning, but also to develop, as my father had wanted. But then two years later, out of the blue… I saw an article in a local newspaper – a middle-aged man suddenly died because of the pacemaker malfunction. _Our_ pacemaker.

– But such things happen. Not very often, but… – Hardy was saying, not asking. Ellie’s heart broke for him. This year she hardly ever remembered about that little magic engine, that didn’t let him die. But Hardy could never forget.

– First of all, it hadn’t happened to _our_ pacemakers for many years. And besides, a pacemaker malfunction doesn’t happen “suddenly”. Usually patients notice that they’ve started feeling worse and go to the doctor, for they are instructed to do so – as you must know. However that guy, according to the paper, had been feeling absolutely fine and died totally unexpectedly.  I was lucky for the news didn’t spread fast enough to reach the ear of the competing firm. Fortunately, the man who died hadn’t had a family, so I didn’t have to deal with his grief-stricken relatives. I went straight to the newspaper myself. It cost me a lot of effort – and quite a lot of money – to make them print a retraction and cover this case up. Then it was the hospital’s turn. It was even harder. But I got the information… The autopsy results confirmed that the pacemaker really had a strange malfunction, and the heart couldn’t cope with the rhythm. And it really _was_ our pacemaker. There could be no doubts. Except for… We never produced _such_ pacemakers. It was one of my father’s experimental models. Someone must have stolen and sold them. And there were the consequences. I couldn’t find out who it had been. No papers, no evidence was left. Even if somebody had seen something – two years had passed, and it would have been impossible to talk to the witnesses. I began to look for the other people who’d got those pacemakers. It was like chasing a ghost. And not even believing in it. But a few months later I finally managed to achieve something. I found one patient in Wales. I went there. Only… when I came he had already been dead. A road accident. How could that happen, and what’s more important – why? When such like “accident” happened for the second time in another part of the country, I understood – he, the seller, was also tracking them down, one by one killing them before the truth about my father’s mistake transpires. I don’t know why he’s doing it. ‘Cos he obviously sold them illegally and indirectly. The hospitals didn’t know neither the supplier nor the history of the devices. At last I was lucky to be ahead of him. I found several people – one by one – before he got them. I paid them to keep it a secret and arranged operations to change the pacemakers. After which we kept on playing. For now I’m still ahead of him. I’ve got money, contacts, information. The only thing he has is his obsession. He’s not afraid of mistakes or collateral damage. Nothings keeps him in the same place for a long time. He must be changing names, cities, jobs easily. That’s why I don’t know, who he is or where he is. Probably he used to be one of my father’s assistants. Or even _she_ used to be – I won’t be surprised if it’s a woman. Although there were not many of them. He covers his tracks amazingly well. Only here, in Broadchurch, he was not lucky. Two of his “patients” happened to live here. He murdered that poor tramp, Parker, only half a year ago. And then I managed to find another one – Taylor.

– It was you who kidnapped Taylor?

– Oh, please, detective, I didn’t kidnap anyone! I called Mr. Taylor, explained to him that due to the fault of our company his pacemaker might have a malfunction. I asked him to agree to a surgery and take a nice amount of money as compensation. Of course he said yes. We met in one of our private clinics in Southampton. The surgery was a success. But he couldn’t return home too soon if he didn’t want anybody to suspect something. I rented this cottage to ensure a full rehabilitation for him. Yesterday he came back to his wife, I even drove him to Broadchurch – I was going there myself anyway.

– Why didn’t he tell his wife about any of this?

Athena snorted.

– Don’t you get it yourself? Did _you_ tell your daughter when you fell ill? And when you were going to have a surgery?

– He didn’t even tell me, – whispered Ellie.

– There we go. He was afraid that she would worry, that she’d think he’s doing it because of money… Though partly it was true, but… He really had no choice. It was either risking once or being afraid to die every day.

She hesitated for a moment before speaking again. And now her self-confidence turned into something that looked like… shame.

– I made a mistake. I shouldn’t have hurried that much. If I had come to see Taylor myself, if I had explained everything to him properly… Maybe even talked to his wife… Perhaps we wouldn’t have dealt with all that panic around his disappearance, you wouldn’t have taken this case and _he_ wouldn’t have been interested in you.

– What does that mean “ _he_ wouldn’t have been interested”? It’s the police who should have been interested in this maniac long ago! Now he’s given himself away. We know he’s in Broadchurch. If you help us, we’ll find him. Why didn’t you report earlier anyway?

– It’s my father’s name that is at stake. No matter who’d sold the pilot models – they still have our family name on them. I couldn’t let the police and the journalists drag a good man through mud. Because you’ve been right, – she looked at Ellie for the first time since she began talking. – He really _was_ a good man.

– He was happy to have a daughter like you, – nodded Ellie.

– I can’t see, why doesn’t the killer quit this game, – Hardy, as usual, couldn’t stand it when the sentiments took too much time. – I mean, he should see that you’ve been covering his tracks. Why didn’t he leave this dirty job to you?

– Maybe his victims know something about him?

– Then he would have also killed those who had already got new pacemakers. But he left them alone, didn’t he, Ms. Dedalus?

– He did. At first I was worried he wouldn’t know what I was doing, and people would still die. I tried to leave him different signs, messages. But soon I understood that he studies his victims thoroughly before the attacks. You may be sure, if he’s killed Parker, he’s been here for quite a while already. He could have taught your kids, or work with you, or take you to the bar – and watch, how much alcohol you could afford.

– Well, everything is clear. Basically. Now DI Miller and I are going to return to Broadchurch. And you should come there too, as soon as possible, to give evidence. It would help if you bring all papers you can provide that could help us get in touch with all those people who’d worked for your father and left after his death.

– Can you promise me if won’t be in the press?

– Ms. Dedalus, you’re not in a very good position to bargain, – Hardy lashed out again. Ellie couldn’t even blame him. Her own head was splitting because of the sleepless night and all this messy story. She couldn’t imagine how _he_ must be feeling. – You’ve given yourself away. Now this man knows you’ve contacted the police. We can’t guarantee that he won’t come after you and get rid of his partner in the game.

– We are not partners, we are rivals.

– All the more so.

– OK. I’ll come.

– Brilliant.

Hardy was going to take off the IV, but his right hand didn’t work, so he stared at the left one completely at a loss.

Ellie stepped forward, but Athena was closer. She sighed and shook her head before releasing Hardy from all the needles, dots and other shackles of hospital he hated so much.

– Are you sure that you don’t want to stay here till morning and rest? – She asked.

– No, we have to go. We’ve got kids at home.

– Not common kids, – Ellie added quickly and saw Hardy roll his eyes.

Hardy peeped under the sheet and seemed to sigh with relief, seeing that at least his pants were where they should be.

– To be honest, – went on Ms. Dedalus. – I would like you to stay for one more reason. I understood that you’d been talking about your condition to everyone only to grab the killer’s attention. But you’ve told the truth, you actually had a pacemaker implanted about three years ago. There have already been three victims in your town – what if your pacemaker was also one of those? I would like to check and make sure…

– I’ll give you my doctor’s number and I’ll find the papers. No way I’m letting you cut me open again.

– No, it’s not…

– Any ideas where my shirt is?

– Oh, I had to get rid of it. You may keep the sheet instead.

Ellie chuckled. 

Hardy gritted his teeth and forced himself to stand up. At first it looked like he was going to fall, so Ellie instinctively made a step towards him again. He swayed but managed to keep his balance. Ellie pretended she was just going to give him his coat, and stared at the carpet next to the bed. Hardy finally let the sheet go and put one arm into the coat’s sleeve, the other one hanging lifelessly by his side like something that didn’t belong to him. Athena probably noticed that, for she hurried to the drawer next to the computer.

– Soon the local anaesthesia will wear off completely, and the pain will be awful. Here, take this, – she gave him some pills. – And don’t forget to go to the hospital tomorrow, to change the dressing and get a sling.

– I’ll make sure he does everything, – nodded Ellie and smiled. – Thanks for fixing him.

– Well, if it was not for me, he might not have needed fixing at all…

– See you tomorrow, Ms. Dedalus, – said Hardy and walked past her as if he knew where he was going.

 

***

– You know that you can’t work on this case anymore. Now you are a victim.

– Great, at last you might be useful as a DI.

– Oi! – Ellie smacked his arm, and her heart immediately sank: it was not _that_ arm, was it?

Hardy winced. Shit, it definitely was!

– Sorry, I…

– Was not thinking, yeah. That’s okay, it almost doesn’t feel anything.

– Almost?

– Well, it certainly doesn’t feel the fingers. So, you will be leading the investigation and reporting me everything that happens. I will be supervising and giving my advice.

Ellie thought that Hardy must have deliberately provoked her earlier so that now he could use her sympathy and guilt to manipulate her however he wished.

– We’ll see, – said Ellie.

They drove in silence for a while. Then at some point Hardy began to doze off and his forehead hit the window.

– Maybe you should sit in the back, have some sleep?

– Nah, – he muttered. – Don’t wanna be sleeping when we get home… might scare Daisy.

– Now you’re thinking about it, – scoffed Ellie.

– I didn’t plan this.

– Actually, yes, you did.

– Not really!

– No, what you really planned was to meet the real kidnapper-slash-murderer. Oh, what a pity, you never succeeded! – she slowed down and took a blanket  from the back. – Here, put it under your head at least…

– Thanks. I’m still not…

– …I’m fed up with the noise of your head banging against the window. I’ll wake you up when we arrive.

 

***

When they arrived the lights in the house were on. Hardy was so ashamed that he almost regretted he wasn’t asleep. How could he scare Daisy like that? And what for? For the man who agreed to take money and conceal a crime. Trying to banish his own feeling of guilt Hardy was looking for someone to blame, and of course found Tom bloody Taylor and Ms. What’s-her-name Dedalus. Hardy was going to reveal the truth, even if they didn’t like it…

But for now he had to deal with his daughter, who definitely didn’t like what he’d done.

– Dad! – Daisy appeared on the doorstep as soon as Miller pulled over.

Hardy took a deep breath and brought himself get out of the car and face the cold nearly-morning air and Daisy’s anger. The coat fell off from his right shoulder, and he barely managed to hold it. But Daisy was already there.

– Oh, God! What has happened to you!

– A stray bullet… – mumbled Hardy, not daring to look her in the eye. – Don’t worry, it’s only my arm. Besides, I was lucky to have been kidnapped by a doctor.

– What? Why?

– To save me, probably.

– Da-ad? What are you talking about? I don’t get a thing… Are you OK?

He finally looked her in the eye. There was a familiar expression of annoyance and worry. He saw, that now, when was safe, she very much wanted to complete what that killer hadn’t managed to do. Hardy hung his head down. She had every right to be angry.

– I’m sorry, darling… I’m so sorry… I… made you worry… I promise it was the last shit plan… ever.

– Don’t make promises that you can’t keep. Ellie, thanks for bringing him.

– Anytime, – she nodded, then came closer to Daisy and whispered something to her, so that Hardy couldn’t hear.

– All right, – sighed Daisy and her look softened a bit. – Let’s go inside, you need to rest.

– Yeah, – he even didn’t object when she reached for his hand to support him. – See you tomorrow, Miller. And… sorry… I mean… thank you.

– Oh, you’re always welcome. Although, actually, I hope it won’t happen _always_. Take care, both of you, – she said suddenly serious. – He is still somewhere here… I’m going to the station, and then – to the crime scene. They might find something there. I’ll be waiting for you to give your statement as soon as you feel better.

Hardy nodded. He was barely able to stand. He couldn’t think straight, and words didn’t want to form sentences.

He hardly remembered Daisy take him to his room, help him take his clothes off and lie down. But he did remember her sit on the edge of his bed, gently brush away some strands of hair and kissed his forehead.

– Goodnight, Dad.

It was almost dawn already.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't know how all these things really work, so I hope you'll just forgive me if something does not look quite realistic. After all the main thing is to show the emotions truthfully. XD
> 
> ***  
> And again: sorry for the mistakes. )


	7. Chapter 7

He had absolutely no desire to move. It felt like he’d slept the whole night – or rather what had been left of it – in the same position. Now his neck was aching and his head was like an iron weight. Like one of those things that are tied to the legs of the drowned to… well, to drown them. This creepy simile that had come up out of nowhere frightened Hardy, and he opened his eyes.

What time is it?

He reached for his phone as usual.

Fuck!

The phone was shattered yesterday, dropped on the road. And his arm that made a careless movement, reminded him of everything else…

Sh-shite…

Breathing heavily he fell back on the pillow.

There came three shot knocks at the door and without waiting for his reply Daisy rushed into the room.

– Dad? Are you OK? How are you feeling?

– ‘M fine… Shouldn’t you be at school?

– Today’s Saturday. Besides, can’t I just have a day off to take care of my sick Dad?

– I’m not sick…

– Oh, yes you are. Pretty much. Here, – she took a glass and pills from the table. – Tell me, when you’re ready, we’re going to the hospital.

– No, Miller’s waiting for me in the station…

– Well, you’ll see her afterwards.

– Daiz, if I was working on this case, I would have dragged the witness to the CID in the middle of the night. Actually I _am_ still working on this case technically, so I should drag _myself_ there or my reputation as a just tyrant will be condemned.

– You are not a tyrant. And you are not a witness. You’re a victim, – she shrugged, and Hardy winced. This term made him feel not only pathetic but also useless.

Well, it was his fault, he shouldn’t have got shot. Not that he had chosen to, but still. The last thing he needed now was to get some fools from the Witness Protection escorting him wherever he went… Although… perhaps he wouldn’t get them… Today is…

– Saturday, you say? – he asked a bit more inspired. Finally the notorious “lack of police resources” was able to do him good.

– Yep, and trauma care might not be working late, so you’d better hurry up, you need a proper sling, not this bandage.

 

***

In the hospital Hardy couldn’t help but stare at every doctor or patient that was passing by. Guessing, if he could be the killer. Hardy had been here not long before the attempt on his life. The man in the morgue who gave him the papers on Parker, knew that he was interested in this case. He’ll have to return here later. But right now he was awaited in the station.

– I saw you here yesterday, with that detective lady, – noted a chatty nurse man while putting a bandage on.

As the doctor said, the wound had been treated by a skilled surgeon and needed no further treatment except for rest and regular dressings.

– There was a call made from here, – Hardy nodded.

– Yeah, I know. This Connolly is completely nuts. I hope your colleague will stop all that mess. Decent people work here, it would be awful if they suffered because of someone’s speculations.

– And you’re sure these are just speculations?

– Obvs. I was there when her man was being operated. ‘T was a totally normal appy. Well, except for it was quite a serious case, he got septic and…

– Okay, – Hardy shut him up. It had nothing to do with him. But he still couldn’t resist asking. –Mr. Connolly, did he have any problems with his heart?

– Heart? No, why?

– No, I just…

– It’s because you have them, isn’t it? I’m sorry, I heard you… talking to your colleague.

– Oh, did you? You hear quite a lot of things here, don’t you? Mr…

– Brown. Jack Brown. You can call me Jack. Well, it just happens – so many people coming and going. You don’t want to hear, but you do.

Jack Brown. That sounds almost like “Mr. No one”. What did Ms. Dedalus say: “He must be changing names, cities, jobs easily”?

– How long have you been working here, Mr. Brown?

– A year or so. I’ve come from Bristol, couldn’t find job there, you see. Well, we’ve done here.

– Thanks, – nodded Hardy putting his mac on one shoulder. He was already getting used to wearing it this way. – Goodbye.

– See you next time. Try not to get shot until then, – Brown smiled cheerfully, obviously very pleased with his joke.

Hardy made sure to give him the most murderous of his looks.

 

***

The CID was busy despite Saturday. Although less busy than you could expect judging by the enormity of the case. He gave his statement about the previous night to the DS, because Miller was talking the Taylors in another interview room.

Hardy wanted to see them all before they leave, and was already thinking about coming in – since he hadn’t been taken off the case yet. But at that very moment he heard CS Clark herself calling him:

– DI Hardy, to my office now, please.

Shit!

Hardy glanced sadly at the door of the interview room and trudged to see Clark.

*

– Before you say anything: what happened yesterday was an accident. It was not a planned operation, – he blurted out right from the doorstep.

– Thank you very much for the explanation, – Clark’s lips curled in a sarcastic smile. – Otherwise I’d still be wondering: if it was a planned operation, why was it so bloody awfully planned? And if it was an accident how the hell could detective Miller know where to find you!? – the last sentence could certainly be heard next door.

– DI Miller knew I’d been carrying a tracking device since I’d suspected that the case had something to do with pacemakers…

– What, you fear for your life that much? Well, let me see the device.

– I… don’t have it with me now…

– Your fear has vanished? Right after you were shot? It doesn’t make sense, Alec. Do you think I’ve got this job because of my good looks? You’d planned an operation. It’s just it all went to shit. And now not only will I have to take the best detective off the case. I might as well have to reassign the case itself to the higher authorities.

– What!?

– Yes. The majority of the crimes were not committed in this area. And as for the criminal negligence and the leak of information in a big company – that’s a whole other story. Quite a serious story.

– But what about Parker? It was a murder, and it happened here.

– It’s almost impossible now to prove it was a murder. Unless the killer comes and confesses to you himself.

– And… wait… and… – he grasped at a straw. – And what about yesterday, when he attacked me? You may be sure, I’m not gonna leave this.

– DI Miller and her team are working on your case. But she’ll have to work with what we have here – your evidence, forensic details, CCTV footage, if there is any… But everything concerning Athena Dedalus and her company… we might not be able to use it.

– Shit…

– Exactly.

– Is she here? Ms. Dedalus, I mean. May I speak to her?

– He’s been here. With a lawyer. And she’s not inclined to talk to you just yet.

– Damn!

– Alec… – suddenly she sounded softer than before. Hardy got suspicious. – Please, calm down. We are still taking you off this case. You did this yourself. So the best thing you can do now is to take a leave for a while to restore your health.

– I don’t need a leave! You are treating me like it’s a self-inflicted wound. But I didn’t…

– It’s not what I mean. You’ve done everything you could. But you’ve made a mistake. I don’t want you – and us – to pay for it.

– I’m not taking a leave, – Hardy repeated stubbornly.

– Well, as you please, – Clark shrugged. – But in this case, I’d like you to solve something for me.

– To solve?

– Yes. Well, not quite “solve”. Just something to do. As Ellie is working on the last night’s attack now, I’ll have to ask you to deal with her previous job. We are not opening the case, you’ll have to inform Mrs. Connolly about it, and do the paperwork.

– You’re trying to get rid of me, aren’t you?

– I’m trying to use your brains and skills as efficiently as possible in the present circumstances. Oh, and take Desai and Williams with you.

– I’ll take Bob, he’ll look after me, – growled Hardy, and left without asking permission.

*

He still managed to see Miller and the Taylors when they already left the interview room. Taylor cringed when he saw him, so Hardy guessed that Tom must have heard a lot about him…

– Mr. Taylor, this is DI Hardy, – Miller hastily said before Hardy could open his mouth, then she turned to him. – Hey. How are you feeling..?

– Fine, – he nodded. – Well, here we’ve met at last, Mr. Taylor.

– Detective inspector, I… – Taylor started to mumble. – I confessed and I’m ready to pay for it… I… you have to understand… I did it… what I did…. Not because of the money. I was just scared. Simply scared.

Hardy saw Fiona gently but firmly squeeze her husband’s forearm and then patted it encouragingly. She’s forgiven him, – Hardy thought. She has understood and forgiven him. A painful mixture of bitterness, envy, irritation, indignation and… admiration was boiling and burning inside him.

A quick thought crossed his mind… If by any chance way back then he had managed to tell Tess how utterly terrified he was of just being alone in a dark room with nothing but a dead girl’s face and excruciating pain as a company… what would she have done? She would have probably blamed him for making her feel guilty.

Ah, what’s the point of this, he couldn’t have told her anyway.

He suddenly didn’t want to talk to them anymore. After all, how else could they help the investigation? And he was no longer interested in the confrontation with their conscience.

– It doesn’t matter. Now DI Miller is responsible for your case. Report whatever you need to her, – he said bleakly. 

– DI Hardy, please, forgive Tom, and… me, – Mrs. Taylor said shyly. – If I hadn’t panicked, nothing would have happened.

– And you, Mrs. Taylor? You’ve forgiven your husband so easily. He risked his life, he betrayed your trust, concealed a crime… Maybe your panic was not so genuine after all? Why didn’t you call the police that very evening when Mr. Taylor didn’t come home? Have you asked her about it, Miller?

– But I’ve already explained, I went to bed early, I thought Tom was just working late, as usual… – Mrs. Taylor was frightened by his sudden outburst.

– May I talk to you for a second? – Miller took him by the elbow and pulled to the other corner of the hall. – What the hell are you doing!?

– Miller, they are taking the Dedalus case from us.

– I know. It doesn’t mean you can lash out at people.

– Everything you have is Broadchurch.

– I know. My team is already going through the CCTV. The SOCO is on the crime scene, I’m going there now. Do you wanna come with me? Your car’s still there, they didn’t touch anything.

– Great, tell me if you find anything.

– How? Your phone’s broken.

– Shit! Okay, I’ll find you later.

– How?

– I’ll come to the station.

– What if I’m not at the station?

– I’ll think of something, Miller.

– Your spying thing again, right? Tell me where it is, now! – This time she needed a lot less time to find the tracker. – Wait, if your phone’s broken, does that mean you’re spying on me from your home computer?

– And from the office too. And there’s nothing personal; it’s not you I keep my eye on – just your coats.

– And what if my coat was… I don’t know… out. With Dirty Brian, ah?

– With Brian? No, tell it not to do that. I know exactly where Brian is. He’s with this PC Something-sky.

– Is that what you call “exactly”? Wait, PC Something-sky is that the one who is something like 20 years younger than him?

– He’s Dirty Brian, remember.

– OK, listen. If we get anything, I’ll find a way to let you know. Alec, – she suddenly stepped closer to him, and his first instinct was to stagger back. But Miller only straightened out his sling that had got tangled up on the back. – Alec, have you been thinking of laying low for a while? That guy is still out there, in Broadchurch…

– Don’t call me Alec. Especially when you and Clark are plotting behind my back to kick me out.

– I’m not… You are impossible!

– I have to go. I’ve got other things to do, you know.

– What other things?

– The case of the mysterious piece of paper in Connolly house.

The door slammed. Hardy didn’t see but almost felt Miller shut her eyes.

 

***

Did he trust Miller? Absolutely. After Sandbrook which she’d dived in head first and then rose up and on her way saved him and what was left of his self-esteem, career… life… He could trust her with everything. Did _she_ trust him? No. He could clearly see it.

He had to admit he didn’t really deserve her trust. When they were working on their very first case together he lied to everyone in the station about his health. Or rather about the lack of it. Then he arrested her husband – the man she had loved and the man who had ruined everything she had loved. But Hardy failed to put him behind the bars. Then without any permission from authorities he dragged her into the nightmare of investigation that finally destroyed her faith in people. He changed her. Hardened her. And then – he just disappeared for two years, and never even gave her a call.

And now he was not acting reasonably again. She was right. He had to try and not spoil things even more. He should let her do her job. And maybe she’ll do it better than he will. He was almost sure that she will.

Hardy sighed. And what if she won’t? They had so few clues. The Parker’s death was the latest one, it was the closest to them in time and place. And there was absolutely no evidence.

But there was still one tiny lead that was bothering him.

Sommers.

The bartender-philosopher was acting weird when they first met. Hardy felt that he had something more to say. Was it something about Parker, or about himself, or maybe even about Hardy? It would be good to find out.

Hardy already went down the steps leading from the station to the road, when he realized that he couldn’t drive to King’s Arms himself. He heaved a sigh and returned to the station. Several pairs of eyes stared at him at once. It took a mountain of effort to stay calm.

– Bob, – Hardy called him. – You’re coming with me. Boss is informed.

– No, – suddenly answered Bob. Hardy looked at him wide-eyed; he couldn’t remember a situation when Bob said no to him. To anyone at all. – Boss told you to take Nish and Frank. No offence, sir, but they are a little faster than me, you know, in case… well… just in case.

Hardy froze dead in his tracks for a moment. How do you react when you’re given body guards? Well, personally he felt like a child who’d run to the beach away from his stupid parents. “How could you? It’s dangerous!” It’s your bloody fault – you should’ve opened this case when I told you. “Your Mom was so worried!” Well, she shouldn’t have been, I can look after myself better than you can. You’ve no chances of solving this case without me, and if you don’t trust me – it’s you bloody problem.

No, Hardy, it’s your problem, and it’s your fault. These people – Miller, Clark, Bob – they just care about you. Why do you need to lash out at them?

Bob argued with him for the first time in his life – so that Hardy took someone who would be able to protect him better, in case… well… just in case.

– Fine, – he sighed and looked around. – Where are they anyway?

– I don’t know, – Bob shrugged and also looked around. – I’ll go and find them, sir, just a moment.

– A-ah, forget it. It’s not worth it, really. I’m not planning any life-threatening operations today.

With those words he went to the doors, thinking of how he was going to get a cab without a phone.

– Sir! Wait…

He turned around. Bob was hurrying after him, breathless.

– I can’t find them… Coming with you… You’ve got the Connolly’s case, right? Where should I take you?..

– To Mrs. Connolly’s house, – said Hardy. – But first, we’ll stop at someplace on our way.

 

***

– Do you actually know what the expression “on the way” means?

– Sort of.

– Well, it’s completely _out_ of the way!

– It might be important. Everything that is important is on the way.

For several minutes they drove in silence. Then Bob said sounding more sad rather than disapproving.

– You shouldn’t be doing this, sir. You will be punished. Nish and Frank will be punished. I will be punished. Well, I’m OK with that, I don’t have much to lose; besides I’ve agreed to go myself. But the guys, why do that to them?

– Don’t worry, Bob, I’ll say that I’ve made you come with me. Boss will believe me, you can be sure.

Bob sighed and shook his head. Hardy was ashamed. He promised himself that if he’s wrong, and Sommers knows nothing, he will forget about this case, he will deal with Connolly and papers and won’t leave his house until Miller – or whoever else – catches the killer. He was sick of being everyone’s pain in the arse.

– Why is it full of people? Who are they? – wondered Hardy when they were near the bar.

– Half of Broadchurch, I suppose, – Bob smiled. – Take it easy, boss, people are having a day-off. If there is no such word in your vocabulary, it doesn’t mean the others don’t use it.

Right, it was Saturday! Hardy cursed under his breath. Now his visit to the bar surely won’t go unnoticed. If he was smarter he could have listened to Clark, taken a leave and gone to the Sommers’s under cover, dressed casually… Not that Hardy ever really dressed casually, but… anyway. The point was he didn’t have that option anymore.

– Bob, stay here, will you?

– Hey, no, if I am here with you instead of Nish and Frank, there’s no way I’m leaving you even for one second.

Hardy rolled his eyes.

– PC Daniels, the orders of your superiors are not to be discussed, – he hissed. But when he saw how hurt Bob was, he added. – You are too… easy to notice. The less panic I create here the better. For everyone and everything, including my own safety. OK?

He saw Bob thinking. And considered it a full agreement.

– Thanks for giving me a lift, – Hardy patted his shoulder and got out of the car.

***

When Hardy came barely anyone turned their heads. They all had nicer things to do. However the owner’s eyes stopped at him at once.

– Good afternoon, Mr. Sommers.

– Hello, sir, – Hardy smiled, noticing that this time Sommers called him neither by his name nor by his rank. – I suppose you have more questions to me?

– You’re right. Well, almost. Actually they are the same questions. What do you know about Hugh Parker and possible circumstances of his death.

– I told you everything when we first met.

– You did. But then we thought his death had been an accident.

– What do you mean? – He was genuinely scared.

– I can’t give away any details, but we are treating his death as suspicious. And do you know what else seems suspicious to me? Your face when you’re talking about Parker.

– Two whiskies, please! – a cheerful bloke appeared at the counter and immediately stared at Hardy. Hardy tried to look away, but jumped when the man suddenly addressed to him. – DI Hardy? Seriously?! I thought you couldn’t attend such places?

Hardy, who tried and failed to pretend that he was not there looked at the guy wearing jeans and checkered shirt. He’s seen him somewhere quite recently. He can’t be one of Daisy’s boys, can he?

It’s the last thing he needed now…

– You can’t remember me, can you? Oh, gosh! I was bandaging you this morning. The shift ends – and you don’t remember me already.

Shit, a chatty nurse man, what’s his…

– Jack Brown, – he kindly helped him. – I hope you’ve come here for some treatment and not because of work?

– Your whisky, – Sommers interrupted him, and then put a glass in front of Hardy as well. – And your beer, sir.

– I didn’t… Yeah, thanks, – he played along.

– OK, see you at the hospital, – Jack took his drinks and left looking at Hardy with curiosity.

– Couldn’t you come on a weekday? – grumbled Sommers.

– If I could I would.  Does he come here often? – He nodded to the nosy nurse man.

– Who, Jack? Well, as everyone else… From time to time.

– And in Hugh’s times?

– I think so… Come on, you don’t think he..?

– Just wondering. But you’re right. We can talk about him later. Mr. Sommers, I keep feeling that you have something else to tell me concerning this case.

– Where were you shot? – asked Sommers looking at Hardy’s arm.

– How did you know, I was shot?

– Just a wild guess. It doesn’t look like a fracture – cast would have made the dressing thicker. And some kind of strain is not a thing that a man like you would care to bandage.

– You’re quite attentive, Mr. Sommers. I can’t believe your sharp eye never saw anything important connected with your friend’s death.

Sommers sighed and looked around. He obviously didn’t like to talk to a policeman in front of his customers.

– Just a moment, – he told Hardy and then called one of the bartenders, fussing around behind the counter. – Andy, I’ll leave you for a minute. You’re in charge for now.

Andy nodded. Sommers waved his hand inviting Hardy behind the counter and to the back room.

– So? – Asked Hardy impatiently.

– Sit down. Don’t worry, it won’t take long, I’ve nothing to confess. Just want to give you something.

– What?

– Hugh’s stuff.

– What?!

– Well, it’s not much, it sounds greater than it is. Nothing valuable – clothes, papers, old photos. But it might be useful.

He crouched in front of a wardrobe filled with what looked like rubbish, and began looking for something on the lower shelf.

– Where did you get them from? And why didn’t you tell me when I came here the previous time?

– I didn’t know he was killed, OK? I suspected it, but didn’t want to believe… Who would want to do it and why? And I didn’t want… – Sommers fell silent, as if he didn’t dare to let the last secret go.

– Didn’t want what? What’s wrong with you, people! Why do I have to pull everything out of you? If you don’t tell me now, I’ll call constable Daniels who’s waiting for me outside and we’ll arrest you for obstructing a murder investigation.

Sommers sighed again.

– Poor Hugh… The only thing he wanted was to fly again. It was this dream that destroyed him. You remember what I told you about how he tried to fix his heart and get his job back? The truth is that the doctors refused to do the operation. The case was too difficult, they said. And Hugh was not young. Finally someone suggested him to do the operation secretly, and to forge the documents. They swore to him everything would be neat and tidy. Of course it cost Hugh a fortune. He sold a huge part of this property. But it was worth it. He had his operation done. He survived and even felt better. It’s just… The documents were not that good after all. I don’t really know how it all happened, but Hugh was sentenced and those people who had deceived him, disappeared. Of course he could dream about flying anymore. After that he moved to Broadchurch, sold out the rest of his belongings and settled in my bar – literally and figuratively. I rented him this corner in the store-room, he looked after the bar, while I was away. He became more and more absentminded… And finally… That.

– Who were those people that offered him fake papers? Did he know anything about them?

– Hugh didn’t talk much about it. Preferred to forget it. Like everything else except for the flights stories. Here, – he finally pulled a medium-sized shabby box out of the wardrobe. – If anything about them was left it must be here.

– Why didn’t you tell it earlier? To me or to the police who were investigating Hugh’s disappearance?

Sommers snorted.

– Do you think they actually investigated anything? They barely asked me about him. He was a very suitable and moralistic example of a classic case – “an accident caused by alcohol abuse”. If they knew Hugh’s story they’d have made even a worse monster of him than they’d already had. And you should admit, after them I couldn’t trust you with this secret at once. I had to be sure.

He handed Hardy the box, but then froze because he suddenly realized, there was no way for Hardy to carry the box with one hand.

– Well, now you are sure, I suppose, – nodded Hardy, moving his elbow on a sling.

– I’m sorry if it is somehow connected… I mean I’m sorry anyway. I’ll help you carry this to the car. You said someone was waiting for you?

***

What’s good about not having a phone – is that no one can know where you are and what you are up to. What’s bad about not having a phone – is that you also can’t know where the person you need is.

When they came back to the office Miller was not there.

– And what about Mrs. Connolly, sir? – Asked Bob putting the box on Hardy’s table.

– Don’t worry, Bob, I’ll find Desai or Williams.

– You’d better find both, – Bob mumbled doubtingly and left.

Hardy dialed Miller from the office.

– Hardy?

– Found anything?

– We’re on it. There was someone behind the bushes. Flattened grass, broken branches, but…

– The grass…

– Yep. You can see almost nothing on it. Brian says, the feet size is not large, but he still thinks it’s a man, judging by the strength he used to break the branch. Or it might be a very strong woman. Are you sure you didn’t see anything?

– I told you, – he sighed. – It happened too fast. Then I thought it was a man. But he was dressed in black, the figure was hardly seen. And his hands were pale…

– Man’s hands?

– I don’t know. Just a white spot on the black. Listen, I need you to come to the office. I think I’ve found something. Do you remember Sommers, the owner of the bar who reported that tramp, Parker, missing? He’s just given me a box full of Parker’s stuff.

– Are you kidding me!? Did you look through it?

– Not yet. I need to deal with that Connolly case, or CS kills me. But I want you to come here as soon as possible and check it. And take Dirty Brian with you. Is it his voice there?

– Er… yeah. Brian! – she shouted into his ear, and Hardy winced. – Brian, DI Hardy wants to talk to you. I’ll put you on the speaker.

– Hello? – Brian sounded annoyed.

– Brian, I want you and Miller to work on Hugh Parker’s case evidence. I’m gonna talk to Mrs. Connolly now and join you afterwards. By the way, I wanted to check… Tell me, you still haven’t found anything on that piece of paper, have you?  

– Nothing special. Well, except for there is _nothing_. Neither prints of Mr. and Mrs. Connolly, nor of those who could come to visit. Those prints we’ve found are smudge, and there’s nothing in the base.

– What about the prints of the pharmacists?

– Maybe. But certainly not the one, who’s nearby; he was checked on the first day.

– And he also said that they hadn’t been selling relanium for quite a while, – he almost heard Miller shrug.

– And you didn’t have time to check those who are more than a hundred metres away from the house, did you, – snorted Hardy.

– Why would we? No crime has been committed. There are no grounds for opening the case. I didn’t get any orders…

– Oh, yes, you always need to be asked nicely to take the initiative. Well, I’m asking you nicely now – to try and work harder on the Parker’s box, – barked Hardy.

– Here we go, again, – said Brian. Hardy heard Miller take the phone from him, trying to turn the speaker off; Brian’s voice became muffled but could still be heard. – Why can’t he ever talk normally? And he is surprised why we call him Shitface.

Hardy sighed indignantly.

– I’m still on the speaker!

– Sorry, sorry, give me a sec…

– I thought it was over!

– It is!.. Well, at least, I don’t call you this.

– You never did, – he heard Brian again.

– Did you?

– What is it, a little coming-out party? – Miller was embarrassed. – Have you got nothing else to do?

– The box is on my table, in the office. And by the way, Brian, – Hardy said a bit louder. – You too have a nickname.

He held on for a few more seconds, listening with a satisfied smile to Miller denying everything. Then he hung up.

 

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It becomes harder and harder, I'm not sure I like what I'm doing...) And I'm not sure, you do. Anyway, the climax is near...


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ellie might be a bit OOC in this chapter, but I justed needed someone to say those things so... I hope it's not too much. (Probably, it's the last thing I should be worried about, though.)

– What does this mean, you are not opening the case!?  No-no-no, it won’t do, DI… what was it..?

– DI Hardy…

– DI Hardy! I'm not signing your papers, inspector. Why do we need you – I mean, the whole lot of policemen? For signing papers? I don’t think so!

– Mrs. Connolly, there are rules. Official coroner's report clearly says that the reason of your husband's death was a serious appendicitis case. We've also checked the piece of paper from relanium packet that you had found in your house, but we haven’t got any unusual results either. There is nothing to it that can be connected with your husband's death or with anything illegal at all.

– And what about breaking into the house? Eh? Isn't that illegal?

– Did you see any signs of a break-in? Anything missing? Anything lying in the wrong place?

– I see what you're doing. No, I didn't see any ' signs of a break-in', apart from that paper. But it doesn't matter. I don't normally remember where's what, I might not have noticed. Besides, the intruder could have been very neat…

– Yeah, and then he just decided to leave some rubbish before going.

–  I’m not in the mood for your sarcastic comments!  The thing is, you don't know how to solve this case, so you are just trying to get rid of me!

– Mrs. Connolly, you should understand – there’s nothing to solve… – Hardy didn’t even argue with her other statement. He hasn’t spent a long time here but his head was already throbbing.

Mrs. Connolly really _was_ hysterical.

She couldn’t sit still for a minute. She kept pacing around the room, coming up to the window, sitting down, then standing up again, coming up to the window – again – then leaving the window for the bookcase, taking something from there, then putting back again… And so on, and so forth…

Yes, she could easily forget where was what. But she could as easily forget who’s visited her. Who could have left the unusual scrap of paper.

– Nothing to solve? Oh, sure! You want to see me poisoned in my own house first, just like my husband! Then you will have something to solve! Very well! But I won’t give you the pleasure!

She suddenly rushed out of the room and came back with a gigantic suitecase.

– You can leave, detective. You, obviously, have much more important things to do if a woman’s life means nothing to you.

Funnily enough, Hardy did have more important things to do then to listen to all that nonsense. It’s just…

– What are you doing, Mrs Connolly?

– And what does it look like? I’m packing my stuff! I’m not going to live in a house where I never feel safe. And the police have no intention to protect me. I’m leaving for London, to live with my son.

– As you please. But first I need you to come to the station and sign the papers…

– Didn’t I make myself clear? I’m not signing anything! I don’t want to make your life easier! You’ve done nothing for me. In fact, my panic got even worse because of you. I don’t want to hear any more of your hypocritical excuses. I can’t afford worrying so much in my condition.

– Your condition?

– Yeah… – Suddenly she fell silent; she understood she’s given away more than she wanted to. But then she seemed to recover, and explained almost defiantly. – Yes, if you need to know, getting upset might be fatal for me. So, if I have a heart attack and die right here and now, this will be your fault!

Hardy thought he might have heard it wrong.

– Heart..? – He repeated in a hoarse voice. – You’ve got a heart condition? But…

– It’s confidential. I’m telling you only because you’re a risk factor! – She ran up to Hardy again and poked his chest with a bright-red finger. Then she went on in a dramatic tone. – Yes, the doctors said, I might die. But my dear Alfred cared of me so well! He made me go to that operation to implant a pacemaker, he made sure that I ate right, lead healthy way of life didn’t overexert myself… Oh, Jesus, now that he’s gone, will I have to find a job?! I’m gonna die and meet him soon…

Hardy’s head was spinning. He needed to get back to the station.

– Mrs. Connolly. I respect your choice. Don’t worry, we’ll deal with the papers. If you want to leave – I won’t stop you. But let’s agree that you’ll go tomorrow. And today I’ll leave two officers to look after you, OK?

– What’s this? Arrest?

– Certainly not… It’s more of a witness protection.

She looked at him suspiciously.

– I don’t believe you. You want me to sign those papers and you won’t let me out of the town until I do, am I right?

– Maybe, – Hardy had enough of this arguing. – Anyway, you’ve got so many things here, that you’ll be packing till morning. Williams, Desai! – He called for his securities who were silently hanging around in the garden. – I want you to sit here and make sure Mrs. Connolly is safe. Is that clear?

– But… sir, – Nish hesitated. – We are here to make sure _you_ are safe…

– I’m perfectly fine.  Your mission’s accomplished. Now you’ve got a new one.

– You mean to prevent her from leaving the town?

– Yes, including this. The main thing is – just keep an eye on her. All the time.

– Hm-m, that’s gonna be hard, sir… You know, it’s already late, and at night she will probably won’t let us…

– You’ll think of something, – Hardy cut the conversation off and left the house.

 

***

– So?

– Hardy! Why are you here again?

– I think, I’m going mad, Miller. Or maybe quite the contrary; maybe, I’m closer to the solution then I think…

– What is it with you? You look like a ghost who’s got an unfinished business. Why can’t you go home already and rest..?

– …In peace? No, I can’t. I spent too much time with Connolly’s papers so that she could leave tomorrow. Got rid of it at last, wanted to ask you how it’s going… And… something else…

– Oh, it’s too early to say anything, but we might have something here… Wait… Why did you let her go? You were supposed to make her sign the papers.

– I’ll tell you later. What have you found?

– OK. Here. Look.

Hardy came up to the desk and put his glasses on. Miller was showing him a copy of some paper where someone had written…

– “theo.pro.me2013”. What’s this?

– Looks like a login or a password. It was put between the pages of a hospital brochure, which in its turn was inside a magazine about planes. It _must_ be something important.

– It _might_ be… If it’s some kind of account, we should find it and crack it. Get more IT guys.

– Or maybe it’s a name in social media.  

– “Theo”… Do we know any Theos? Theo… Theodore, Teddy… Perhaps there is somebody with such name in Dedalus’s employee list?

– I’ve already checked – nothing like that.

– We should ask Sommers. And Mrs. Connolly.

– What does Mrs. Connolly have to do with it?

– That’s what I was going to tell you… Miller, you won’t believe me… I think Mrs. Connolly might be the next victim of our killer.

– What?!

– When I was talking to her today I found out that she also had heart condition.

– No way! What the hell is wrong with this town?!

– Do you remember that guy in the pharmacy where Connolly used to buy medicine? He told that Mrs. Connolly was a “health nut”. So, looks like she’s got a reason for that. What if someone did break into their house? Could it be somehow related to the murders? If it is true, then Mr. Connolly’s death – without any doubt accidental – could have saved his wife’s life…

– Hey, hey, stop… – she moved closer and put a hand on his shoulder. – I think you’re just trying to stay in this case and seeing evidence that doesn’t exist. Have you even asked if she’s got a pacemaker?

– Yes, she said her husband made her have the operation done.

– OK, but when? In which hospital? Have you checked her papers?

– Shit… – He realized that he’d left the Connolly house too soon and hadn’t proved the new-born theory properly.

He sat back. Exhaustion made him feel dizzy. He didn’t want to admit, but it seemed that the previous night had really got the best of him.

– Hey, – Miller rubbed his shoulder encouragingly, and he realized too late that he wasn’t even trying to move away. – Don’t worry. We’ll find him. You were given the Connolly’s case so that you could rest. Stop seeing riddles everywhere. Two cases investigated by a detective appear to be mysteriously connected – these things happen only in stories.

– There are no such coincidences, Miller, – he shook his head, and stood up with an effort, grabbing the edge of the desk with his good hand. – Who’s at the office? I want all the pharmacies that sell relanium to be checked first thing in the morning. If it turns out that all this time we’ve been treating Connolly as a loony, and she really is the next victim – can you imagine what we’ll look like?

– You’ll have a long conversation with Clark…

– Aye. Wanna bet, she’ll regret that she’s made me do the paperwork?

– Absolutely, – Miller chuckled.

– Is she still here?

– No, she left half an hour ago. You should go too.

– What about you?

– I’m fine for now, – she yawned and rubbed her forehead, contradicting what she’d just said.

Hardy was angry with himself. If not for his stupid shit plan, they would have been working together on this. And now he’s left her alone with hopeless riddles, a murderer on the loose and hands tied by the senior authorities.

– I’ll sit here a bit more, and then leave. Brian took the original note to the lab. We’ll see tomorrow. Maybe, it will give us anything.

– OK. Thanks, Miller.

– Just go already, will you, – she smiled.

Hardy bumped into Brian in the doorway.

– Hi, Brian.

He had two paper cups of coffee. Hardy looked back at Miller with a meaningful glance, and nodded at Brian. Miller chuckled again.

– What? – Brian was surprised and a bit hurt.

– Nothing, DI Hardy is leaving.

– I’ll leave the Connolly’s papers on Clark’s desk in case she comes here earlier than me. Which is quite unlikely, but still…

*

He left. Ellie gratefully took the coffee from Brian’s hands.

– Do you think he’s going home? – asked Ellie suspiciously.

– Where else can he go?

– I don’t know. To interview a newly-found witness?

– He reminded me of someone, – Brian squinted.

– Himself three years ago? – Ellie nodded. – It’s weird; in the moments like this he seems older and younger at the same time. He looks like Hardy I used to work with on our first case together. You know, I’ve just realized that I kind of missed him!

– What?

– No, no, no, it’s not that I wanted him to hang around like a walking dead… It’s just, when he’s working on something this big, and there’s nothing more important for him than getting justice… It seems like he totally forgets himself. I mean, his feelings, his body, his needs. Have you noticed? Sometimes I even have this creepy feeling, something like a vision; that if he died, if his body died, – his will, his mind, his internal strength would still be carrying him around the Earth, till he finished his business. Can you imagine that? You know, it’s like a bundle of energy, like in science fiction…

– Oh, oh, stop it! Please. I’ve imagined it too vividly. You’re right, it really _was_ creepy.

– Sorry.

– I hope I won’t see that in a nightmare. He’s not the most pleasant person alive, let alone in a zombie form.

– Ugh, I didn’t call it a zombie!

Ellie waited for a while, and then couldn’t help but chuckle.

– And when he’s done with his business, he would settle on the beach, watch the sunset and scare tourists away.

– Enough, please! Tell me my nickname instead, will you?..

*

It was dumb and humiliating – to spend the police money on taxi. Besides, the walk from home to the station took about fifteen minutes; when the weather was fine, long-sighted Hardy could see from the window Daisy climbing up the hill.

Still he decided not to take chances. Besides, he was not yet sure, if he was going straight home. The cab driver didn’t take the same road as he himself took yesterday. The crime scene is on the way, guessed Hardy. It was a strange feeling – to be on the other side on investigation. He didn’t quite like it. So he decided to return to the usual one. It was not too late yet, was it? Mrs. Connolly surely hadn’t packed her stuff yet, let alone gone to bed. If only he didn’t feel that dizzy for the last few hours… He preferred to chase away the thoughts that something might be wrong with the pacemaker. It would have been too unfair. But, perhaps, it was time to get those bloody pills already. Luckily, for the first time in months after visiting the doctor this morning, he finally had his prescription.

– Where should I drop you off? I can’t go up the hill, you know.

– You don’t need to. You know what? Pull over right here.

– Here?

– Yeah…

His house was gleaming white through the descending night ahead of him. Just a bit to the left there’ll be the pharmacy. He could pop in there before going to the Connolly’s, and have a talk with the chemist meanwhile; he wanted to  know who still sells relanium in this town.

Miller’s going to kill him, if she finds out.

*

– Do you know, what I don’t get? Hardy said that the killer had pale hands. But we haven’t found a single print on the branches.

– Must have been gloves?

– White gloves? What kind of clown is he – black clothes, white gloves?

– I dunno, – Brian shrugged. – Things happen. But you do believe that they happened as he says?

– Who does, Hardy? Of course, I do. If I trust anyone on Earth it’s him. I’d trust him with anything.

– And you and him are not..? You know..?

– What? Hardy and I?! – Ellie’s eyes widened. – Come on! If I don’t call him Shitface, that doesn’t mean I like him.

– You said you trusted him…

– I do. I’m not sure though if _he_ trusts me.

– …admire him…

– I didn’t say… Hey! If a vowel of this conversation leaves this room, I’ll make sure you are called by your nickname till death.

*

– Good evening, – Hardy came into the blinding light of the pharmacy.

– Hello! DI Hardy, right?

The Young chemist – Stain, right? – gave him a forced smile; he obviously wasn’t quite pleased with dealing with the police.

– Is it that case, or do you need to buy anything?

– Aye, I need something. It’s good you’re open, thought I’d never get to the chemist’s.

– We are open 24 hours, – declared Stain proudly. – So, how can I help you?

Hardy gave him his prescription that had already gone crumpled. Stain studied it carefully and whistled:

– Oh, now I see!

– Yeah. But please, keep yourself from gossiping and giving me advice. Since the pacemaker operation I’ve been completely fine. Well, just a bit more tired recently. Miller says, I’m getting old.

– How long have you had it? Maybe it’s the battery?

– Nah, it shouldn’t be. When it was implanted, they told me, it’s one of those new models, the battery should live long. Thanks God. It makes me sick to think I’ll ever have to change it. Was kind of lucky to survive the first time back then.

– Well, OK then. Just a moment.

 

When Hardy put the pills into his pocket where the useless empty blister still was, he coughed and asked:

– Do you happen to know, what pharmacies in Broadchurch sell relanium? You see, though we didn’t open the Connolly case, I’d still like to check… Looks like I’m going to have much free time because of this, – he nodded at his arm. – Maybe you could give me some addresses, at least those which are nearby?

– Hm-m, I can’t name all of them, but… Well, there are our colleagues/rivals, two blocks from here, I’ve just talked to a girl who works there, we were discussing Connolly over a beer, so it came up. They definitely have it. And she also told me about the place on Greene-Road. But this still needs to be checked.

– Can you write it down for me?

– Sure, no problem.

He took a pen and a scrap of paper and started to write. The silence that smelt of medicine was only broken by a squeaking sound of the pen in the fingers in rubber gloves.

*

Hardy was staring at the white squeaking fingers till they handed him the piece of paper.

– Here.

– Thanks. See you, – Hardy nodded and walked towards the doors. The paper was thick. And smooth. Hardy stretched his hand farther from his eyes and saw the addresses scribbled on one side, and on the other side… – “Nurofen”…

At that very moment the lights in the room went off.

– You said you worked 24 hours, – scoffed Hardy. – I should have guessed right away. Yesterday night the lights here were off too.

Hardy turned around.

A heavy blow to his temple made the dark complete.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry...  
> (And yes, I know I'm repeating myself, but I call it circular plot structure :) I'm gonna repeat some more things later, 'cos the original series really does this, so why can't I?)


	9. Chapter 9

– Brian, I can’t get, why you’re still here? Shouldn’t you be at your lab, doing some… I don’t know…

– Dirty stuff? – Brian grinned. – Well, the results on Parker’s note should be ready by morning. And you are alone here at last. I mean, Hardy’s gone, no one grumbles and tells me to “mind my own dirty business”. We could just as well try and solve this riddle of “theo.pro.me” together, what do you think?

– So… Now tell me you are not trying to ask me out again, you just wanted to be a detective when you were a kid?

He laughed.

– I actually wanted to be a detective. I wasn’t good enough.

– OK then. Let’s see. What do we have here?

– A number and three words, with points. One of them is probably “me”.

– So, does he mean that he is Theo Pro?

– “Theo” really sounds like a name, but “Pro”…

– Fine, let’s say it’s a name; – Ellie put it down on a sheet of paper. – But no one would give their real names on such occasions.

– Good point. That means it must have a meaning.

– I think, it’s Greek for ‘god’. Greek is good, it’s very much Dedalus-style.

– God? Seems quite pretentious. And what are the other letters? “Me”, “god”… “Pro”? ‘Professional god’? And if it’s Latin, it would be a preposition – ‘for’. Then it is “God’s for me”.

– Is he a priest or something? But why two different languages? – Ellie thought for a moment. – No, it must be something else. What if “me” is not ‘me’? Maybe it’s some kind of anagram? How do we make the second part get a clear meaning? Can we find a connection between  “prome” an’ “theo”? Oh, wait, wait… Did you hear it? 

– What?

– Prome…theo. Prometheus!

– Oka-ay… – Brian said slowly. – So what does that mean? The killer had named himself after a Greek god – or who was he?

– A Titan. He stole fire from Zeus to give it to the people, make their life easier.

– Yeah. So, our guy thinks he is some kind of modern Prometheus, who gives people lives?.. Well, more like he lends them, and at the high rate of interest, but sod it. And the fire is – what? – electric shocks?

– Electric… Modern Prometheus… It sounds familiar, like it’s on the tip of the tongue…

– The second title of “Frankenstein”?

– Exactly! Good job, Brian. “Frankenstein, or The Modern Prometheus”.

– But how can this help us? Do we have to remember the book and crack the secret code?

– No idea, – Ellie sighed. – Maybe we are seeing things that don’t exist, making up surreal evidence. Hardy would envy.

– Frankly speaking, _I_ envy _him_ already. I think we also should go home already.

– Maybe, you’re right. I’ll just leave someone a note that he wants to interview the chemists tomorrow morning.

– What, all of them?

– Well, those who work near the Connollies’. Apart from Frank Stain, he’s already been checked.

– Hold on, hold on…

– Oh, my God! – Ellie covered her mouth.

– Say that again?

– Frank Stain. Frankenstein… Bloody hell, Brian, it’s him! It’s definitely him. Prometheus!

 

***

– I chose this name myself. I won’t tell you the real one. Though I probably could, why not, after all you’ll soon be… you know…

The voice came from the distance, as if Hardy was lying in a deep well or… or in a coffin. It was as narrow and dark as a coffin. He couldn’t move. There was something in his mouth; a rope-formed handkerchief tied up at the back of his head. No, he definitely didn’t like being on this side of investigation.

The “coffin” jumped and then stopped. That meant it had been moving before. That meant they were not in the pharmacy anymore. They might even not be in Broadchurch…

The door of the car opened. There was a hood on Hardy’s head; he couldn’t see a thing through the thick fabric. He shuddered when someone brutally grabbed him by the shirt and pulled.

Ah, shit, his goddamn arm!.. The handkerchief muffled his groan; the sling was gone and his hands were cuffed behind his back.

Stain pulled him out of the car and threw onto the ground. The ground was soft. Sand. They must be on the beach. His head was throbbing but still working. When Stain finally took the hood off, Hardy saw he had been right.

It was still dark. But this darkness was not black, but blue. The sound of waves was heard nearby. And it was absolutely deserted.

– Stand up.

Hardy looked up. Stain was standing right in front of him. And he was holding a gun.

How was it even possible? That a case which was not even treated like a case suddenly turned into _this_? Is that it then? The end? Well, if it is, he should at least stand up…

And again, – he noted with some kind of grim satisfaction, – he was standing up alone.

Hardy gritted his teeth biting on the handkerchief, and tried to stand up. The beach immediately reeled before his eyes, Stain turned upside down, and the next second Hardy realized he was lying on the sand.

– Oh, fuck, – hissed Stain coming up and trying to pull him up. – Look at you, cop, – oldest old, but still trying to be a hero… It’s just _I’m_ not a villain. Stand up, will you! I’ve already dragged you to the car – so you’re going to the boat yourself. You are heavy, I should say. Though it’s not obvious when you just look at you…

Hardy barely understood what he was talking about. He tried to wink away the annoying mist in the corners of his eyes. It wouldn’t let him see clearly. He tried not to think about the pain burning his right arm alive. An absolutely wild thought came into his head; probably it would have been worse if it had been the left arm. Although… it probably would have been quicker.

Hardy swayed again but managed to remain standing this time, and glared at Stain. Stain waved his gun:

– Turn around.

Well, this must be it.

Hardy turned around. And shuddered when the barrel of the gun touched his shoulder blade. Stain was very close now.

– There’s the boat, – he pointed towards the sea. – Walk. And don’t push me. I want do this neatly, but if I have to I might just as well finish you here. I just wouldn’t want the kids to build bloody sand castles tomorrow.

Stain giggled. He probably thought he’d made a joke.

– Well?!

Hardy walked. The boat was waiting right by the water. Still holding Hardy on gunpoint Stain floated the boat out and nodded:

– Get in.

For a second he was tempted to refuse. The salty wind made him sober and he clearly understood what was going to happen next. Wouldn’t it be better to get a bullet in the head right here and now?

But he even didn’t know _why_. Why did this weird unremarkable man commit all those horrible crimes? And what is _he_ himself dying for? Hardy had to try to know.

Hardly keeping his balance he got into the boat. Stain set nearby and the first thing he did was to take the handcuffs of Hardy. The second thing he did was to chain his good hand to the side of the boat. Then he got the boat running.

 

***

– Gotcha! – Ellie slammed her hand against the desk. Her hands were shaking and she had to catch her breath before printing the files she’d just read.

– Dedalus confirmed, didn’t she? He’d worked for them? – Clark rushed to the CID as soon as she got the call – with no make-up, but all buttoned-down as ever.

– Yes. That’s him. Troy Caldwell. Junior assistant. Quitted two months after Percival Dedalus’s death. Are the cars ready?

– Quite. You can go. Have you called Hardy? He might want to know…

– Nope. This wanker still has no phone. And I don’t feel like waking his daughter up in the middle of the night.

– I see. Well, then we’ll tell him in the morning.

Ellie took her parka and headed towards the doors. Her knees got weak and her hands were still shaking. When Ellie opened the door she realized that she’d never arrested such a dangerous criminal without Hardy. Maybe she hasn’t arrested _such_ a dangerous criminal ever.

– Ma’am? Are you sure we can do it? All the evidence is circumstantial… How will we even prove it’s him?

– We’ll try. He’s a threat, Ellie. What we have to do now is to protect the town from him.

Ellie nodded. Yes this was right. They should take it one step at a time.

 

***

They were already quite far from the shore when Stain shut the engine down and untied the handkerchief.

– Don’t look at me like this. It’s your own fault. If you’d have listened to your bosses, I would have finished my business long ago and left you boring hamlet.

– Why did you… do it? – Hardy forced himself to speak. His tongue had gone numb. – Who are you?

– I was his apprentice, OK? Mr. Dedalus was my mentor. We worked on those models together. Although I was green as grass then and couldn’t do much for him. But he used to say I have the divine spark. The fire, you know. And I had to bring it to the people. He was a great man. But he never had chance to fan the flames in me. He didn’t teach me to use it. He died too early! People like him shouldn’t die at all. Ever! Let alone so bloody early… I wish someone else had died instead of him – but no: so many useless, stupid animals keep hanging around the planet. And people like him go away…

– It’s not for you to decide.

– Hah! Shall I remind you who you are talking to? Have you forgotten what I’ve done?

– No, I remember. You took people’s lives, but you never gave them.

– But yes I did! I gave lives. Well, it’s more like, I sold them, but, you know, what can be bought is already cheap. I’ve made their lives a couple of years longer. They should be grateful. That drunk clown, Parker, he’d have never got treatment otherwise.

– You bloody killed him…

– I couldn’t let anything harm my teacher’s name. I made a mistake. I was not going to sell defective devices, I believed they would work. I never doubted Dedalus’s genius. But he had been right – they’d needed further improvements. I failed him, and I had to fix everything. Those people had to die from something else.

– Why didn’t you leave it to his daughter? You saw that she could solve that without killing anyone.

– She could. Or she could be too late. Or she could screw it all up. Actually, she did screw it up in the end with Taylor, when she put you on my trail. I didn’t  interfere with what she did. We worked as a team. Using our own methods. Sometimes I found a person faster, sometimes she did. I wasn’t competitive. The main thing for me was to get what I needed. To redeem myself. Shit, there are not many of them left! And you had you to nose into this right now, didn’t you?

– Aye…

– You’re a good cop. Those guys who were dealing with Parker’s death earlier… it never even occurred to them that it might have been a murder. And you’ve cracked Sommers. And you’ve guessed about me… If I’d let you leave the pharmacy today, you would have returned immediately with an order, wouldn’t you?

– Aye.

– Do you always know when people are lying to you?

– Almost, – his instincts didn’t work with wives and friends.

– Pretty handy.

– Not really. It makes me a terrible liar myself. I always want to expose myself.

– Hah! – Stain snorted and gave Hardy a somewhat weird look. – Listen, I’m really very sorry for you. But it’s the only way to conceal the truth.

– You’re wrong. The whole story will come to light anyway; Dedalus will tell the police everything.

– Will she really? She had a whole long day to give you her evidence, did she do it?  She wants to keep this secret as much as I do. She can buy any journalist, any lawyer, any cop. She was ready to  confess only when you were working on that case. ‘Cos you’d have never let go of her anyway. And if you are not there, no one will stop her from going away with it.

– I’m not alone. My colleagues…

– …Will find nothing. I shall leave, change my name again. You will be gone. Ripples on the water will vanish, and everyone will forget about us. Well, now I’ll turn to the left a bit…

 

***

– He’s not here, – Ellie sighed into the phone. – The pharmacy is closed, the lights are off. And… ma’am…

– Yes? What is it, Ellie?

– There’s a stain near the door, hastily washed away. I think it’s blood.

– Oh, dear…

– Yeah.

– I’ll send the SOCO team.

– OK. What about the team that went to his place?

– The same. Except for the stain. Actually it’s sort of hotel-like superclean. Looks like he didn’t  spend much time at home.

– OK. I’ve told to collect the CCTV footage in the neighborhood. Waiting for Brian.

Actually, Ellie was not going to wait for Brian. They won’t gather the team in the next half an hour. And she just needed to make sure… Besides, it was close.

– Bob, I’ll leave for about twenty minutes. If Brian comes earlier, show him around, please.

– Oi! You are supposed to be supervising…

– I know. I’ll be right back. You won’t even notice.

*

It was cold and damp as it always is at this time of the year and day. The clayey path that led up the hill was slippery. Ellie was in a hurry. Where on Earth has this awful anticipation come from? But she knew herself well; it won’t go away unless she makes sure everything’s fine. Or not. The windows were dark. Ellie rang at the doorbell. She was shivering, and didn’t know whether it was cold or fear.

For a few minutes she could hear nothing but wind howling and waves whispering in the distance. After she pressed the button for the third time, she finally heard the steps.

– Daisy? Oh. Hi.

– Ellie? What’s going on?

 Ellie saw the girl shiver. Was it the wind?

– Er… Is you Dad..?

– What’s happened to him?! – Daisy sounded almost rude.

– Isn’t he… – Ellie swallowed hard. – I’m sorry, sweetheart. Isn’t he at home?

– No… I… But he… He called, said he was going to the chemist’s after work and seeing some… witness. He must be there? Have you called her? ‘Cos he hasn’t got a phone, he must have failed to keep in touch…

– OK, darling. Let’s get into the house, – Ellie put her arm around Daisy’s shivering shoulders and took her inside.

– I don’t understand… How can you not know where he is? You’ve been working together all day. And now you are here… Why are you here, anyway?

– Daisy, please, calm down. There’s no use in panicking, – Ellie tried to pull herself together, though she thought panic was actually the most suitable reaction here. – Tell me that again. So, when did he call last?

– I dunno… About eleven-ish. I s’ppose.

– OK, – Ellie glanced at her watch. There’s been an hour, maybe more. Nish said Hardy never showed up at Connolly’s. – And he said he was going to the chemist’s?

– Yeah, there is one nearby that works twenty four hours. He got his prescription today.

– Shit.

The stain hastily washed away.

 

***

It was dark. Hardy could barely see the shore now. The lights of the city were somewhere to the right at the distance. Stain shut the engine down again.

Even if they start looking for him, they’ll never find him. And what’s even worse – they’ll never find Stain. Hardy regretted that he hadn’t taken one of those trackers with him this time; they’d given quite a good account of themselves the previous time.

Unless…

He remembered the open office of the CID, where Ellie found another one of his toys in her jacket. And then she told him to go home and stop being stupid. And then she straightened out his sling that had got tangled up…

Stain was too busy with his boat. If Hardy wanted to test his guess, he should do it now. But how? His left hand was chained to the side in an uncomfortable position. And the slightest movement of the right one made his whole body shudder in pain.

It had to be done. Now.

Hardy almost regretted he wasn’t gagged anymore. He bit his lip trying not to scream, and put the right hand into his trouser pocket.

It was there! He had been right!

Wind and pain had brought tears to his eyes, but Hardy almost laughed when he touched a tracker in his pocket.

Ellie did carry out her threat after all.

 

***

– OK. No panic. He always has his backups, remember?

Daisy shook her head.

– He used to have it the previous time, because he planned that bloody operation himself. This time he didn’t tell me anything. He said police was protecting him. Well, where is that protection now?!

– He left them to guard a witness. Bloody idiot.

Daisy sobbed.

– He’s always like this… Everything in the world is more important than he is… Why… why can’t he just… Why doesn’t he think how we would feel, if he…

– Darling! – Ellie took her by the shoulders and looked in her eyes. – Wait. It’s not about us now, is it? We won’t help him by sitting here and crying. Your silly father isn’t capable of taking care of himself, because he’s too busy caring about other people. That’s why we have to take care of him, right?

– Why does he forget that he’s supposed to take care of _me_..?

– Because you are not “other people” for him. You are part of him, Daiz. You’re his life, bloody hell! You don’t even notice how much he cares of you… But if he forgot everyone else for you – as he would surely want – it would be selfish from his point of view. And don’t you look at me like that, I’m not defending him. I just understand. So, now let’s hurry up. Can you give me that laptop of his?

– Yes, it’s here, – she took a stack of magazines from it. – But why do you think, he still has a tracker?

– Because, I gave him one myself, – winked Ellie opening the familiar program. – See! Here it is. It’s moving. He thought he would use it to spy on me, but it happened the other way round.

– Ellie! You’re a genius…

– I know. Well, what do we have here… Oh, no.

All relief was completely gone immediately. She recognized that place. There they found Jack Marshall one day. There, as Beth said, the coastguards saw Mark’s boat… Although both times it was much closer to the shore.

 

***

Stain steadied the boat at last and turned to Hardy.

– OK then. It’s time to finish all this, – Stain sat down, took the keys for the cuffs. – You see, I really tried to make your last minutes easier, as much as possible. I’m not a bad man, Hardy. It’s just bad luck.

Hardy looked at him in astonishment. He couldn’t remember if he had ever met _such_ people. Claire might have been close to this, but even her logic was not that twisted. 

It was hard to breathe. Pain, fear, anxiety squeezed his chest making his heart race. In spite of the cold his temples were wet with sweat.

 Click – and his left hand was free for a short moment.

Now! – Hardy ordered himself.

He moved off, grabbed the rail with his left hand, got up and kicked Stain in the stomach. Though Hardy didn’t have much strength, Stain didn’t expect that and fell over. Hardy rushed up to him trying to get hold of the gun. He was almost there – his hand was already in Stain’s pocket. But Stain did something Hardy couldn’t foresee. Instead of stopping his left hand he grabbed the right one.

Hardy screamed. Shock made him let the gun go. Pain was almost as awful as from the bullet itself. And it didn’t stop, it was getting worse. Stain didn’t let him go. And unlike Hardy he had two hands, so the other one got hold of the gun very quickly.

– I wish I have killed you then… – Stain made one last effort and twisted his arm. Hardy dropped on his knees.

– You mi…issed… – Hardy muttered panting.

– I wanted to kill _her_. And only afterwards – you. When I understood that she’s come here to give her father away, I knew it was too risky to let her live. I wanted it to look like a firefight.

– It’d… ‘ave ne’er… looked… like a firefight… You’re an amateur… Forensics would’ve cracked it at once… They still will…

– Well, they didn’t with Parker, – he even giggled.

– We’ll see, – Hardy said seriously.

For a few moments Stain tried to think of the meaning of this “We’ll see” said by a man, standing on his knees at gunpoint.

And the next moment in the distance lights appeared on the beach.

– Shit! What the hell is that?!

– The coastguard must have noticed something, – Hardy would have shrugged if he could.

– Stand up, – Stain waved the gun. Hardy stood up holding his right arm with his left hand. The stitches were ripped open, of course. The second shirt was bloody ruined. – Jump.

– What?

– I said, jump of the boat. I told you I wanted to do this neatly. But if you go on wasting my time, I’ll forget about hygiene and just shoot you. Although I wouldn’t quite like it. So, hurry up, please, I need to get out of here.

– What, you won’t even tie me? And what if I swim ashore?

– With one arm and a heart that’s waiting for a shock? I don’t think so. By the way, I didn’t have time to find out, if you were one of “my people” after all. Well, a doctor will make it out. Or rather – a coroner.

It was so easy to make him just shoot. On the contrary, to make _yourself_ fall into the dead icy water was almost impossible. But there were already lights on the beach. Maybe it was Miller who had guessed about the tracker. Maybe, it was police…

They still won’t find him using the tracker, and he still won’t be able to swim to the shore.

But it gave him at least some time. And time gave him a chance.

Slowly he came up to the edge, looking into the dark water that was licking boat’s body like some enormous shapeless beast waiting for his meal.

Hardy took off his shoes slowly.

– I'm counting to three! – Stain said nervously. – One!

He thought he heard voices somewhere in the distance. Too far.

– Two!

He couldn’t believe he’d do it of his own free will. Jesus, it’s madness…

– Three!

Hardy took a deep breath and stepped overboard.

*

Usually in such cases they say that water “embraces” you and “softly, like a mermaid, pulls you down, towards the eternal peace”.

But it was nothing of the kind.

Hardy felt as if water got its claws into every cell of his poor body, slowly invading the whole territory, depriving him of the right of warmth, of strength, of hope, of the right to be himself…

He couldn’t even fight. He wanted to, but he was too weak and too exhausted. Panic was creeping up to his throat together with the breath he was holding, the air that was already hurting him.

A little longer – and his fate, his ever-lasting old curse will finally get him…

 

***

The hardest thing was to leave Daisy on the beach. The poor girl couldn’t stop shaking, and she just clung desperately onto Ellie’s parka begging to take her on the motor boat.

Ellie couldn’t do it.

What if they are late?

She was afraid to think about it.

But what if…

– Please! Ellie…

– Daisy, no, – sometimes when you needed to make children listen you had to be hard. Ellie was good at it. – You know your Dad wouldn’t want that. Stay here and wait, OK, – when she finished she was already on board. A PC took Daisy to the car.

The motor boat was leaving.

– Here’s our destination, – she showed the captain Hardy’s laptop with a shimmering red point. It had been standing still for quite a while already. Ellie could only guess what was happening there. – How far are we?

– Not too far, ma’am. A couple of minutes.

A couple of minutes. Do they have a couple of minutes?

– Oh, oh! What’s it doing?! – The captain pointed at the red light on the screen. It suddenly started moving fast from the place where it had been standing for the previous several minutes.

What’s going on? Maybe, _he_ ’s noticed them? It’s unlikely. Besides, he could easily finish his business in a second. But the tracker was still alive, and it was going away with his boat. It could mean only two things.

He has finished his business. And Hardy has found the tracker.

– Hardy, you bloody idiot!

Ellie didn’t notice the tears flowing down her cheeks. She had no time for them.

– Ben, – she told the captain. – Do you remember, where it stuck before it started moving away?

– Yeah.

– Well, go there.

– But…

– No buts, go there, I told you.

She dialed Clark.

– Ma’am, it’s Miller. We’re gonna need another police boat. I’ll send location details on your phone. It’s very urgent.

 

***

He always knew it would be like this…

_Nonsense, he knew nothing, he was just scared of this to death…_

Since that very day on the river…

Just like then something is pulling him down now. Just like in his nightmares. Why? On _that_ day, he knew, why. In his nightmares he knew, why.

It’s her…

Maybe, she is somewhere near him? Maybe, she’s come to meet her old friend…

Let me go.

Let me go!

His feet can’t feel the bottom. His right arm is heavy holding the body, it can’t move… The weight is killing him…

_It’s holding nothing, it’s just wounded. And the bottom is dozens of metres below…_

He’s running out of air. Has _he_ left? Is it worth fighting the water only to rise above the surface and be shot in the head?

Lungs are bursting with pain. Or is it heart? His whole chest is gripped in a gigantic vice…

That’s all. Well, let it be, let it be.  At least, it will end.

It’s just…

_Daisy_ _!_

What has he done? How could he do this to her…

He should have been there for her, and instead of that…

They probably won’t even let her say goodbye to him.

He _hoped_ , they won’t.

He knew what the drowned looked like.

_No!_

He can’t do this to her.

Fear of what might happen made Hardy let the useless air out.

The water was pulling him down, but he was fighting desperately, trying to reach the surface.

Daisy. Daisy, Daisy, Daisy, – he kept on thinking.

– Daisy! – he gasped and breathed in the icy night’s air.

When it finally dawned on him that he was breathing, Hardy heard the sound of motor.

Oh, no. Not again. If _he_ is still here then everything was in vain. His silly efforts to stay alive only entertained the killer… It’s not fair…

Coughing and trying desperately to fight the water with one arm, he turned his head looking for the boat.

A searchlight hit his eyes.

What the..?

– Hardy! – He heard. Or maybe, he was just imagining it… – It’s him, Ben! Over there! Hey, guys, get ready to dive…

The light moved aside. Barely alive, Hardy squinted at the boat which was much bigger than Stain’s.

The first thing his eyes saw when they recovered from temporary blindness was an orange creature waving its hands in excitement.

– Miller… – Hardy’s numb lips scarcely moved.

Then the tight knot in his chest exploded. He didn’t recognize the ICD and suddenly breathed in the sea instead of air. At first it felt pleasantly cool against his sore throat. But then… He went down. But it didn’t matter now.

With the last glimpse of the fading consciousness he felt some unknown force catch him and carry him up. Up, towards the cold night’s air. Up, towards the orange creature on board.

 

 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was sooo tempted to make another cliffhanger :-))) But it would have been wrong, I suppose.
> 
> ***  
> Oh, and one more thing. I knew what this chapter would be like since I first decided to write this fic, and it was half a year ago. So if anything looks like a reference to a n y t h i n g apart from series 1–2, it’s purely coincidental. And of course as it’s quite an important moment, I tried hard to make it right. Though as usual, I’m not sure if I’ve succeeded.


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 1\. (If anyone is still reading) Sorry, it took so long!  
> 2\. I don't ship them, I really don't ;)

When Hardy’s pale face appeared on the surface again, Ellie sobbed. Some paramedic nearby rubbed her shoulder. She nodded without even looking, as if she feared that if she took her eyes off Hardy the sea would take him away again.

In a minute they lifted him on board and put on the stretcher. He lay there still, looking like a puppet that had fell from its strings, like a rag doll abandoned in the rain.

– Faint pulse, but it’s there. Breathing…

At this moment Hardy’s body suddenly tensed and jerked. He coughed horribly trying to get rid of the water in his lungs and breathe in at the same moment.

– Breathing’s improving, – the female paramedic smiled. They carefully rolled Hardy on his side to prevent him from choking, and when his cough finally turned into hoarse ragged breaths they put an oxygen mask on.

– Are you sure… his heart is OK? – Ellie finally managed to ask. – He… You probably don’t know…

– We do, – the man nodded, he’s just cut Hardy’s shirt and glanced at the spot where pacemaker was. – Must have hit right before we came.

– Come on, we should make him warm. And do something with his arm. Oh, dear Lord…

Blood mixed with sea water soaked the bandage and was dripping down his bluish cramped fingers.

– Can I do anything? – Ellie almost physically felt her own uselessness. 

– Yes. Pass me those blankets.

The woman skillfully rubbed Hardy’s torso down. Ellie hastily turned away. She had some kind of mission. What was it? Yes, blankets!

She dropped on her knees next to the paramedics and they started to wrap Hardy in blankets. He was still unconscious but his whole body was shaking badly.

– DI Hardy, – the female paramedic squeezed his shoulder. – Can you hear me?

– Alec? – Ellie dared to slip her hand into the cocoon of blankets, and found his good hand. Her warm palm wrapped itself around his ice-cold trembling fingers. – Alec, it’s me. It’s Ellie. You’re safe… – Her thumb was stroking the back of his hand accompanying her warm, soothing words. At last Ellie felt that his shivering began to subside.

– Oh, dear, I’ve got to call Daisy! – she suddenly remembered.

As if he’d heard her words, Hardy twitched and his eyes snapped open. They were dark with fear, like the night sea splashing nearby and darted from one face to another as he was trying to get a grip of what was happening. Ellie took his face in her hands looking right into those eyes. It seemed like he wanted to say something. The paramedic carefully lifted the mask.

– Daisy… – Hardy whispered between painful ragged breaths.

– She’s waiting on the shore. It’s OK. We’re almost there.

– Miller…

– Yep, – Ellie beamed; he could recognize her. But Hardy seemed not to be happy to see her. He half-frowned, half-winced – Ellie could see the effort it cost him to make his frozen exhausted mind work.

– You should be… Stain… I…

– You’ve caught him, – she interrupted him. – They are following the tracker, there’s no way for him to escape. What were you thinking, you, knob?! You left the tracker in his boat!

– In his pocket, actually… Didn’t want… to take chances… – Hardy’s words were barely audible. The next second his whole body was shuddered by that horrible coughing again. It hurt even to look at him.

– Oh, dear, – she muttered, feeling herself shiver. – In the pocket. It was a suicide…

The paramedic tried to put the mask back on him, but Hardy turned away from it like a spoilt child turns away from a spoon of porridge.

– I didn’t want to die, Miller, – his gaze was serious. – Honestly.

– I know, – Ellie felt embarrassed, she rubbed his blanket-covered shoulder with sudden tenderness. It felt so bony and fragile even through the thick cloth.

– Don’t worry. Everything is fine now.

– Here we are, ma’am! – Ben shouted, and Ellie saw the beach which was full of cops, doctors and just some people, idly watching the “show”. They weren’t let to come close though.

An ambulance was waiting in the distance, perhaps, in order to not get stuck in the sand. But a handful of doctors and paramedics were already standing by the motor-boat ready to take Hardy.

Daisy was there with them.

When the stretcher with Hardy was ashore at last, they had to temporarily put in down, because Daisy rushed to her father, unable to believe that it was really him, that the water had given him back to her again, alive.

– Dad! – She sobbed and dropped to her knees by the stretcher.

– Daisy… – Hardy gasped. God knows where he took the strength from, but he suddenly sat up, disentangled himself from the blanket and reached for her with his only good arm.

Daisy immediately clung to him, throwing her arms around his neck. He shuddered only at first when his aching body felt the blow. The next moment he relaxed in the warm dear embrace.

– We’d better be going. Might be dangerous, – one of the doctors muttered.

– Please. Just give them a moment, – Ellie couldn’t take her eyes off father and daughter.

– I’m sorry… I’m so sorry, darling…

– When will you understand already, that I need you? – Daisy mumbled between sobs. – That I… I love you… When will I teach you not to act as if you’re alone in this world?

–  Old habits… hard to… So sorry…

– Don’t be. Just… just remember, I love you, okay?

Ellie wiped her eyes with an orange sleeve.

The blanket slid down from Hardy’s shoulders. He didn’t seem to notice, still clinging to Daisy. Only a shiver ran down his back with shoulder blades sticking out like those of a skinny teen. Looking at this pale back, at the wet curl of hair stuck to his thin neck, Ellie felt something warm and a bit painful turn inside her. She sat down next to him and put the blanket back carefully and awkwardly. Her hand stayed on his shoulders a bit longer than it was needed as she was trying to convince herself that he was really alive.

 

***

Hardy remembered almost nothing of the next two days. Everything around him was floating in some yellow burning haze. It was impossible to breathe in – his throat was immediately constricted, burnt with pain that reached deep down, digging its claws into his lungs and heart. He tried to cough, to get rid of the liquid fire but only tore his throat even more. His chest was aching like hell.

He was exhausted, but something didn’t let him fall asleep, didn’t let him escape to the blissful nothingness, like a torturer that makes his half-dead prisoner stand up over and over again or pours ice-cold water over him.

Ice-cold water. It felt like it never let him go, it had crept under his skin and stayed there forever, squeezed out half of his soul from what once had been his body. Even the burning haze couldn’t warm it. They had divided the territory; his head and throat were burning while his limbs were shivering violently.

He almost couldn’t remember drips, pills or needles. Or maybe he did, but preferred to forget. It hurt. But when didn’t it? He couldn’t remember.

He couldn’t remember being brought home from hospital.

The only thing he could remember were faces, that were looking down at him when he emerged on the surface of reality for a short moment.

Worried faces. Scared. Kind. Caring.

He was not alone.

– This can’t be good for the heart, – he heard a woman’s voice right next to him. Hardy felt that the yellow haze started to clear for the first time.

– Let’s make one step at a time, OK? – The other woman, a bit older, answered. – Let him recover first.

– You’re right…

The young voice was closer. Very close. And the next second a soft cool hand lay on his forehead.

– Still burning?

– Maybe a bit less, – Daisy answered.

Daisy.

His daughter’s hand left his forehead, and he immediately regretted it, as if the most precious treasure was taken away from him. He didn’t want her to go.

Hardy stirred – the slightest movement felt like the hardest work – and half-opened his eyes.

– Dad? Dad! Ellie, I think, he’s waking up…

There was a sound of steps nearby. Daisy bent over him and gently cupped his cheeks.

– Dad, can you hear me?

– Mmmm…

He could. But he had forgotten how to make the words sound.

Daisy let out a sob. Her thumbs gently stroked his cheeks covered with unruly beard.

– How’d you feel? Can I get you something? Water? Tea?

– Easy, Daiz, give him a break, – Miller appeared in front of him. They both looked so tired and so scared… Daisy was wearing a pony tail. She only wore her hair like that when she was deeply worried about something.

Hardy felt a sharp pang of guilt.

Miller gave Daisy a cup, and she brought it close to his dry, parched lips, lifting his head carefully.

Only when he took the first sip he understood how thirsty he was. He drank it all in a few gulps forgetting to breathe and panting by the end.

– Shh-sh… Easy… There, – Daisy lowered his head back onto the pillow and began stroking his hair. He used to stroke her hair like that once when she was a little girl and cried at night.

– Hey, – Miller moved her chair a bit closer so that he wouldn’t need to turn his head. – You gave us quite a scare, – she smiled and put her hand on his shoulder. It felt vaguely familiar.

It was so nice – to see them, to feel them touch him. Just to rest. Just to breathe. He feared that they’d leave soon.

– S-sorry… – Hardy didn’t recognize his own voice. The word stirred in his mouth like the last dying soldier left on a battlefield.

Daisy let out another sob, this time it sounded a bit desperate, she jerked back her hand from his head and buried her face in her palms. But she immediately pulled herself together and wiped her tears.

– You’ve nothing to be sorry for, Dad. You always do the right things. Even if the right thing is the most stupid one.

– You should rest. The fever is gone, now it must be better, – Ellie stood up. – I’m going to get something to eat. Any wishes, maybe? Requests? Questions? Use your position of a sick man.

Hardy wracked his tired brain trying to remember anything that mattered to him now.

– Have I slept through my birthday?

Ellie giggled and exchanged glances with Daisy.

– Do not even hope!

 

***

The next day Hardy already felt good enough to eat, get up, stagger to the shower with Daisy’s help and… receive guests. At least, Daisy thought so.

– Don’t you think that’s cruel, – asked Hardy sounding more dying than he felt. His daughter was fussing around flying from the kitchen table to the oven and back again. – It’s the first day I’m in a vertical position and you’re going to leave me to them…

– _They_ are your friends, – Daisy interrupted him. – They worried about you. They helped me. They deserve a party. And _you_ deserve to see how many people actually like your stupid company.

He heaved a groan. Daisy immediately abandoned her mocking expression and sat down next to him.

– Hey. If you really hate the idea so much… If it is hard for you, I’ll cancel everything. Or put it off. I’m sure everyone will understand, – she gingerly took his left hand.

– Really?

– Sure. Just you should know; they all really want to see you. Yeah, and you’ll have to eat the whole cake yourself, ‘cos I’m on a diet.

Hardy was not really sure who the _they_ wanting to see his miserable figure were. But he had to be honest – a small part of him wanted to see them too. Just to believe in their existence. Perhaps Daisy was right. Besides, she’s made a cake.

Hardy knew well enough that he was being manipulated.

 

*

– Darling, I have to dress up. Will you give me a hand, please?

– I’ll give you even more than that.

– What’s this supposed to mean?

– Come with me, – Daisy smiled and waved her hand. Her eyed were glittering with something that looked like joy and excitement. He couldn’t help but smile back. He was right to agree to the party. Could he really have robbed her of this little joy after all the events of this week?

He stood up trying and failing to drive away the dizziness that hadn’t yet left him once since that night in the sea. Then holding onto the wall – just in case – he dragged himself to his room.

Daisy was always nearby. He saw that she didn’t want to embarrass him with an offer of help but never took her eyes off his almost old man’s small steps. She was ready to catch him if anything happened.

Maybe he shouldn’t have agreed to that party after all…

In his room he couldn’t hold back a sigh of relief when he finally sank onto his bed back against the headboard. Daisy immediately looked at him with deep concern.

– No, no, that’s OK. Just whining like all men do when they’re sick. Remember what your mom said about us being bad at coping with illnesses?

– Yeah. I guess she knew nothing about your talents in this sphere, – Daisy sniffed.

Hardy smiled. It was new and embarrassingly pleasant to have someone who took care of him. And enjoyed doing it.

– Well, here are your pants, – Daisy opened the wardrobe and after finding Hardy’s relatively smart trousers, began rummaging on the other self where Hardy – as far as he knew – had never put anything important.

And yet in a few seconds Daisy produced a neatly wrapped parcel.

– And this is my present for you, – she said solemnly putting the parcel on his lap. – You can untie the ribbon with one hand, I’ve arranged that specially for you. Of course I could have just as well left it without wrapping, but it’s the most exciting part about presents – to unwrap them, right? When you don’t know what’s in there, and a second later – you do …

She was babbling and it gave away her anxiety. Before pulling at the ribbon Hardy pulled his daughter’s hand closer and kissed her soft palm.

– Thank you, darling.

– You haven’t seen it yet! You may not like it.

Hardy shook his head smiling and untied the ribbon. Then he took the wrapping paper off to find two shirts inside – almost like those that had fallen victims of his recent crime-fighting. He unfolded one of them and smoothed the soft fabric.

– I like it, – his smile grew wider and he wrapped one arm awkwardly around her shoulders.

– Try to be more careful when you wear them. It’s a special order.

– Aye, – Hardy nodded looking at the shirt. – And who was the tailor, Jim Maidens? Don’t look at me like that; the buttons on the shirt’s cuffs are almost twice as big as the rest of them. Did you really think I wouldn’t notice?

– I hoped you’d notice them at least after you put your glasses on. And that you wouldn’t have a nerve to mention it, – she pretended to be offended, and shrugged. – You’ll have to wear them anyway. First of all, because you don’t have other shirts, and you’ll better die than appear in T-shirt in public. And besides that, you’re not bloody leaving this house without me knowing exactly where you are!

He stroked her hair. She sniffed.

– Thank you, Daiz.

– Just put it on already.

– Yes, ma’am.

 

***

Daisy was meeting the guests herself. She looked happy, beautiful, and very proud. She didn’t want Hardy to overexert himself too early, so she told him to sit in his room before _they_ all get together. When the door-bell rang for the first time he wanted to go out, but at the last moment got all nervous, changed his mind and sat down on his bed again. Thinking about what he’d say, how he’d entertain the guests during the whole evening, he slowly dozed off.

Hardy was woken up by a gentle touch on his hand. He snapped it away and tried to rub his eyes.

The room smelt of something sour-sweet.

– Sorry, I didn’t mean to startle you.

He was not alone.

Ellie was looking at him from behind the leaves and smiling.

What? What _leaves_?

Hardy raised himself up trying to wake up properly.

Ellie was sitting on the edge of his bed. Next to her on the floor there was a huge flowerpot with a lemon tree of considerable size.

– What’s tha..? – croaked Hardy and immediately started coughing.

– Hey, hey… Easy, – she reached for the cup that had been standing on the table near the bed. It smelt of something sour-sweet. – It’s lemon. Happy birthday, Hardy.

– What’s happened to grapes?

– To what?

– You brought me grapes when you first saw me in a hospital, remember?

– Yeah. It was because I wanted to kill you. Make you choke on the seeds. Now I don’t. Now I want you to get better. Lemon makes everything better. Tea for example. Even alcohol. Even you, – she shrugged and passed the cup to Hardy.

He took a sip carefully afraid of burning himself. But the tea was just perfectly warm to ease his sore throat. Hardy even closed his eyes relishing the feeling of relief.

– Thanks.

– Speaking of alcohol. Daisy asks you to come and meet the guests. Before they forget that they have a birthday boy.

The relief was immediately gone. His knees got weak, and his heart on the contrary began pounding so hard as if it wanted to run away from the guests, their presents and the cake.

Miller laughed.

– You look as if you’d prefer to spent time with murderers than with you friends.

He didn’t deny it.

– By the way. I’ve never told you: you’ve caught him. And it was something.

Hardy looked up trying to make out if there was an irony in her words. But he couldn’t find it; Miller’s smile was warm, and there was something in her eyes that looked like pride. Or maybe even… admiration?

He tried to shrug but flinched – his right arm was still against body language.

– As far as I know it was _you_ who caught him. You guessed about the name on Parker’s note, and analyses confirmed the matching prints. You did it perfectly fine without me. I only scared him off.

– That’s not true. You distracted him from Connolly, if it were not for you we would have had one more victim by now. And it was you who got us Parker’s stuff in the first place. And…

– Okay, okay, – Hardy got tired when he had to argue for a long time. Why can’t people just agree with him, at least when he was on medical leave? He wasn’t even asking about doing what he says at the station. – We work perfectly as a team, don’t we? It’s  high time Clark figures that out.

– Speaking about this… Clark’s here. And she said something about having business to discuss.

– I bet she wants me to meet CMO. See if I’m fit for duty. See if I haven’t gone nuts. Been there done that, – he laughed bitterly.

Miller was looking at him, all serious.

– And what do you think yourself? Maybe you do need to talk to someone? Do you want me to give you my therapist’s number? I can’t say she was very helpful, but Clark would like the fact that you don’t reject help.

Hardy made a wry face.

– What?

– I don’t think doctors would believe me.

– Well, if you tell them you’re “fine” as you always do, I won’t even blame them.

– No… If I tell them, that somewhere deep inside – I actually bloody loved it.

Miller was staring at him as if he was the weirdest thing in the world.

– I don’t mean holes in my limbs or night swims… I just… It’s… Er, you know… I felt myself so alive. _Needed_.

– Well, to feel yourself needed you can just walk into the other room.

– Miller, you don’t have to argue with me all the time. I know that you understand me, really.

She did. She looked around as if she was afraid that somebody would hear.

– Don’t tell anyone.

 

***

When Hardy finally gathered up courage to come out and meet _them_ , he was surprised. There were many of _them_. And all of them seemed to be happy to see him and didn’t feel in the least bit awkward. Maybe it was because Daisy was the hostess here, and nothing was required personally of him – apart from his silent presence. And maybe these people just knew each other so well that there could be no awkwardness among them.

There were Beth and Chloe and Lizzie Latimers. Chloe almost never left Daisy’s side helping her in everything so eagerly as if cooking, laying tables, washing up and entertaining guests was as natural for her as breathing and speaking.

There were Paul Coats and Brian Young, both with young girlfriends. Hardy recognized one of them, but couldn’t remember her name.

Even Maggie and Joslin came. The former editor’s gaze was following him all the time as if she was stalking game. Hardy tried to sit as far from her as he could. An interview in a newspaper was already a deadly nightmare for him. He would never ever appear in a vlog.

It was strange to see CS Clark wearing not her buttoned up uniform but an evening dress. Hardy glanced at Miller and understood that she also looked differently. No, she hadn’t put a dress on; she was wearing just casual jeans and cozy sweater. It’s just the sweater was definitely new, Hardy didn’t remember it. And her curls were nicely done.

All this was surprising and awkward, but it strangely softened and warmed his heart like tea with lemon had softened and warmed his throat.

The only thing that threw him off balance was Daisy’s idea. She suggested that everyone should  sign Hardy’s arm. He argued that such things are done only with casts and he’s got just a medium-sized bandage. But she promised that they would write very carefully, and not with markers but with paint using a very fine brush so they wouldn’t hurt him. Hardy didn’t care about being hurt, he was terrified by the embarrassing situation.

And he was right – it really _was_ awful.

Sitting in the sofa with his arm put on a little coffee table where all guests came sooner or later, he felt as if he was a lady in a nail salon or a monarch whose hand was being kissed by his vassals.

First he was fidgeting on his seat trying not to look at their notes earlier than he should. Then he got bored and slowly got lost in his thoughts. Finally he ran out of energy that he hadn’t had much anyway. So he sat back and dozed off.

When Hardy woke up the sun was already coming up. There was no one in the room and Hardy was not sitting but lying on the sofa covered with a blanket that had appeared out of nowhere. His right arm rested on his chest was numb and hurting. He understood that he wouldn’t fall asleep again, and sat up.

The bandage was stained with something, he’d better change it… But Daisy must still be sleeping. Only when he put his glasses on did he remember what happened yesterday night and realized that the bandage was not dirty. It was all covered with lines written in paint with the finest brush. 

He turned on the lamp and started to read holding his breath as if a piece of evidence was lying in front of him.

_I’m glad I didn’t have to organize a memorial service for you. (Paul)_

_You wouldn’t have found Sommers without my help. You owe me an interview, Hardy. (Maggie Radcliffe)_

_I like your glasses. Any chance you could tell me where I can buy something like that? (J. Knight)_

_Daisy is lucky to have a Dad like you. And she knows it. (Chloe)_

_You’ve been protecting this town ever since Danny died. Thank_ _you_ _for_ _that_ _. (_ _Beth_ _)_

_You don’t actually look like shit that often recently. Though now you do. (Brian)_

_Every time when you think that you’re all alone… just look at your shirt’s cuffs. (D)_

_A CS from Cardiff has been at my office today. There was a total mess there because of Dedalus’s case. But_ _you_ _’_ _d_ _solved_ _it_ _before_ _they_ _came_ _here_ _._ _He asked you to call him. –_ There was a telephone number and then – a P.S.: _Looks like he wants to lure you._ _(_ _CS_ _Clark_ _)_

_Take_ _care_ _._ _I’ll come tomorrow to see how’s the lemon doing. (Ellie) P.S. Btw, Clark said she would never let you work on the case without me again._

Hardy smiled reading the last note. Then he reread the previous one. Then he took the scissors out of the drawer and cut the bandage. Right where the telephone number was; destroying the line of figures for good.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks everyone for reading and commenting!
> 
> P.S. I know, it needs editing badly. So if anyone would like to become my beta - you are very welcome to contact me!


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